


Glimpse of White Cosmic Dust

by dimplelegacy



Series: The Dark Corner of the Universe [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Discrimination, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Keith with Galra Ears, Kissing, M/M, Memory Loss, Science Fiction, Sheith Big Bang 2017, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 08:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplelegacy/pseuds/dimplelegacy
Summary: Keith is a simple guy. He’s satisfied with small blessings like food and a place to rest at night, the essential things that keep him alive. In spite of that, he has some complicated points in his life – he is the last representative of an alien race, he is an orphan with bitter memories and he’s part of Voltron unit, so called “the defender of universe”, his job being to keep an eye on a dying planet.The most crucial matter is a shuttle falling down from deep space to his little station, carrying a groggy passenger with prosthetic arm.





	Glimpse of White Cosmic Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the gorgeous [art](http://damienrouge.tumblr.com/post/165828587752/hi-everyone-its-my-participation-of) ! Thank you Damien for putting up with my slow ass ;;;
> 
> Editing is finally finished and now it's officially over. It's a mess, I can't lie to you. My only excuse is that I wanted so many things from this fic so that's why I decided to make it a series. So the end will be very open for a reason and I will start writing the second part as soon as I can.  
> But Sheith Big Bang as an event? Amazing. I have met so many wonderful people, the best of the best. So I want to thank the mod, caustically, for doing this, even though my piece to the table is... Well. Either way, I'm so very grateful. Also thank you for my beta, and to all the lovely people who have supported me (I'd love to name all of them but there is literally SO many, and this fic doesn't deserve having a long thank-you-list).

 

 

 

 

 

It's strange how in space, inside a mere galaxy, is at least millions and millions different suns while Keith is in one corner of it all where he can't see anything but darkness. It feels like a poor metaphor about how he is unable to touch the same light that everyone else can -- after all, he has chosen to stay away from it.

 

He only sees the sun once a month when he leaves his station and meanwhile gulps down vitamins with coppery-tasting water, hanging on the warmth he can reach.

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

"Keith, is that a 'BTS'-shirt?"

 

Keith blinks his eyes wearily, forcing his brain to wake up. It's his third year doing this job and he still can't stand the early mornings. He glances at the clock on his computer screen (five-thirty a.m.) before answering his co-worker, Lance. "It says 'BS', as in bull-shit. I feel like this isn't the first time you ask me that."

 

Lance's smile is the opposite of innocent.

 

Keith grimaces. "Just because I'm Asian, it doesn't mean I like K-pop groups."

 

"That's because you're boring."

 

He sniffs and starts ignoring Lance, picking up the dust from his key-board instead.

 

It's one of their weekly meetings which always come in the same package -- poor signal and employees who are late. Of course the video-call feature works perfectly only when Lance decides to torture Keith with his company. It’s inevitable. Technically they have to be in front of their computer screen five-thirty sharp. Others, Hunk and Pidge, are usually too busy, and the policy of their meetings is that the urgent work comes first. Their supervisor, Allura, is always the last to join the conversation but for a woman who takes care of at least five planets at the same time, while Keith and others take care of one at a time, it’s understandable. Keith on the other hand doesn't have that much work with the one planet he has. The one he's responsible of is Taujeer, a slowly ravaging place that he can only occasionally visit because of its strong radiation and the incredible amount of acid that it’s producing on its surface. The other half of the time he's keeping an eye on it from the closest moon called Parvus (the name comes from its unusually small size) and trying to not bore himself to death.

 

Lance on the other hand should have enough work on his plate to skip meetings, but Keith thinks he's just lazy and tries to use every excuse to sit on his ass.

 

"Are you drawing on your desk?" Lance narrows his eyes at Keith, leaning closer to his own screen. Keith can see the few freckles that he has on his cheek-bones.

 

"No."

 

"That's our company's property, ya know."

 

"I said I'm not," he repeats through gritted teeth, leaving the key-board alone.

 

"Fine," Lance raises his hands at the sour expression on Keith's face. Keith crosses his arms and when Lance mirrors the movement, he doesn't comment on it.

 

They stay quiet for good fifteen minutes before Lance lets out a sigh. "They're not coming, are they?"

 

"No," Keith answers.

 

The reason might lie in technical problems since they are light-years away from each other. The absence of others could also be because of some unexpected event, but Keith isn't worried about it. Only once before something serious occurred; Allura skipped their meeting because Coran, her closest assistant and relative, fell ill with a disease from a strange planet, that technically made him five years younger every two minute. It was an understatement to say that Allura had been too busy to worry about their meeting, trying to find an antidote. Luckily Coran is thousands of years old like Allura because of their altean blood, an ancient race that has been close to extinct for a long time.

 

_What is worse than being a part of a race that's suffering from plausible extinction?_

 

_To be the last representative of a race that **is** extinct._

 

"Keith," Lance speaks up.

 

Keith pushes his mind through the wave of his glum thoughts and looks at his screen.

 

"It's five-fifty. I gotta go soon to make a check-up on Queen Luxia so we should wrap this up."

 

"Oh, yeah. Um, is she still... pregnant?"

 

Lance blinks at him, his jaw tense.

 

"What?" frustration bubbles inside Keith's chest. "I don't know what else to ask, that's all you've been reporting to Allura these weeks!"

 

"Yeah, you're right. Except the times when apparently you've been spacing out- which is no problem, why should you listen to me in our important weekly meetings, it's not like I've listened every time you've talked about all the different rock types that you've found in Barfs-"

 

"Parvus."

 

"- because I've reported about the strange rapidly raising salt percentage in the water, which is kind of the same like in the oceans on Earth, also about that increasing disease that's infectious only to merchildren, and it makes their body temperature alarmingly low, luckily the antidotes that Hunk send me are working, well slowly, but-"

 

Keith raises his hand, "Okay, I remember that one. Calm down."

 

"It just sucks, you know. Having the meeting with only you, it's no use to any of us," Lance's tone isn’t mocking but honest. "You think something came up? With-- all three of them?"

 

"Don't stress over it," Keith shrugs casually. "We'll hear about them soon."

 

"Nothing rocks your boat, huh," Lance gives him that familiar wry look. Keith shrugs again and doesn't bother to smother his yawn. "What about your situation over there?"

 

"Oh, now you're trying to sound professional... Nothing’s different. Taujeer is still dying and I almost burned my leg off when I visited the surface. But that's probably the hundredth time this year."

 

"Listen," Lance's changed voice makes Keith look at him properly. The signal is clearly weakening, Lance's face in the screen is slightly blurry but at least Keith can still hear him well. "Do you ever think Allura chose that planet for you because of... the lack of population?"

 

Keith moves his gaze to the dark corner of his room, playing with the beanie on his head. "I don't know," he answers simply. He could say more but the throbbing feeling in his chest and throat make him hold his tongue.

 

"I don't mean she did, but I just thought I'd ask if you ever wonder about it," Lance continues softly. "I think she's not that kind of person though."

 

"I know," his voice sounds even gruffer than usual so he clears his throat. "But if that was her goal then I don't mind. It's actually better for me this way."

 

"Keith, c'mon," Lance rolls his eyes slightly.

 

"It is. It would just be a pain to have everyone staring at me all the time."

 

"You'd wear your armor on the planet! And in other cases you wear that beanie. I'm sure you even sleep with it," Keith suspects that Lance is trying to cheer him up, in his own strange way, but it only makes him feel like he's pitied. Even though he knows that feeling is mainly in his head and his own problem.

 

"It doesn't matter," he says back. "You do remember that Voltron has to give the paladin's personal information to the population of the planet that he or she is chosen to attend."

 

"Are you reading that from somewhere?" Lance asks with his eyebrows raised.

 

"You know this!"

 

"I know, I know! You just sounded so formal when usually all I can get out of you is a mutter," Lance raises his hand up for the second time, like Keith is an impatient child that he has to deal with. Lance then ruffles his brown hair with a sigh, glancing at his left. "Crap, I seriously have to go now. Tell me if you hear about Allura or the others."

 

"They usually contact you first."

 

"Yeah, but Allura always catches up with you before me," Lance seems angry at himself for saying those words. "Wonder why that is."

 

Keith doesn't bother answering him, instead he says quick goodbyes before ending the video call. His screen turns black while the computer feeds him the length of the conversation, in the terms of his time on Parvus and in light-years. He doesn't want to look at the numbers for too long. He presses "accept" and stands up from his chair, slowly like an old man with a lumbago. He takes out his mini-screen from his pocket, checking out for missed calls or messages but there's only a video Lance has send him few days seconds ago about another K-pop group. _"JUST LISTEN IT’S IN YOUR BLOOD"_ it says.

 

He sips the coffee that he left on his small table, only to realize that it's from yesterday. He bites his lip at the bad taste and figures that there is no escaping from this morning even though his brain is far from ready to co-operate. In spite of his weariness, he walks through the living space to the lockers. It's time for work.

 

His body suit, which is also an armor, is colored red, black and white. He takes it from the hangar and as he zips it up, he makes a mental note to clean up the dusty glass of the helmet. The small, narrow hallway echoes as his legs carry him to the modest platform where his hand grasps the familiar switch. The floor under him lowers down to the nether parts of the station. He doesn’t have to look far to see Red.

 

The Red Lion is something an outsider would call a small, strangely designed space ship. An employee of the Voltron Unit like Keith, knows better though -- in here, Red Lion is his rock and comfort, and surprisingly he doesn’t even feel ashamed to admit it. Due to the infamous name, it (she) is shaped like a lion, a robotic one, colored red, black and white like Keith’s armor. She is the smallest one from all the lions of Voltron but also the most agile and fastest.

 

Keith lets out a whistle, like he would do to summon a dog, because he knows she hates it. Red’s eyes start to glow and she lashes out to Keith in the only way she can -- she connects their minds with a sharp shock, like a snap of a rubber band against Keith’s synapses. He startles even though he was expecting it. He shrugs and says, “Hey,” because with his Lion that’s all he needs to do. He can hear her growl softly, irritated but when he comes closer, she opens her mouth to let him inside. As he gets into the cockpit, he sits down and grabs the handles. “You know where to,” he mutters and feels the magical machine around him burst into life. The Red Lion takes few steps before flying through a narrow tunnel, taking them up to the exit. The dilating doors let them outside and then Keith is swallowed by the seemingly endless darkness of space.

 

Flying on Red is like swimming downstream, simply floating with closed eyes and trusting a force that’s bigger than you. It’s the most liberating thing Keith has ever felt in his life. He leans back and lets Red to bring them to Taujeer.

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Three years ago Keith heard about Voltron, which was said to be "the protector of universe" (that's what it said on their logo). But amongst people, it was "the cleaning corporation". The nickname was understandable because in reality, Voltron wasn't a new defence force who fought against the crime around the universe, but rather a group of pilots who took care of different habitats, one employer per planet at a time. Of course it sometimes consisted of cleaning up others' messes, in more ways than one. Keith didn't care about rumours nor the real intent of the union, instead he was desperate enough to march straight to the intergalactical main office of Earth, in New York, without bothering with job applications or CV beforehand. He had sent too many of those to various places through email with his shitty phone, even though he knew what the answer would be. After all, he had no experience in any fields. He remembers standing inside that big building full of people and races of aliens he had never seen, feeling completely out of place. He clearly was underdressed among the figures who wore shiny suits, but they also had a place to hurry to while Keith was only standing there without any goal in his life. To him, it felt like a situation that would be perfect for the classic dream scenario: you were in the middle of a crowd without pants, waiting for the horrible moment when someone would notice.

Then he met Allura. For some unknown reason she had chosen to stand in that great hall that day, looking too serious for her age like always, her hair on a high bun, talking with few of her co-workers. She had the same black suit like everyone but the nameplate on the right side of her chest, with the word “Voltron” written on it, caught Keith’s eye. His stomach dropped when he recognized her as Altean – her high cheekbones emphasized her pointed ears under the blonde hair line and her skin was dark. The shock almost made Keith back off because at that moment, he knew that his chances were so low that the mere attempt to beg desperately for job was even dumber than dying on a street. If the Voltron Unit had an Altean employee, Keith was going to get thrown out as soon as they would see his ID.

 

" _Good morning, sir. Can I help you?"_

 

Allura had happened to glance at her right and saw Keith. Her eyes were bright and inquisitive as she greeted him. Keith weighed his options then and decided that the lack of sleep and painful hunger were enough to make him go through any kind of trial, even a bitter twist of karma like this. His legs felt like lead but he bit his tongue as he chose to walk to Allura and hesitantly offer his hand.

 

_"I'm looking for a job in the Voltron Unit."_

 

And when he ended up sitting inside an office with an enormous window with Allura, the first thing he did was to give her his ID-card. When Allura looked at it, her eyes glinted just visibly enough for Keith to notice. He was glad he didn't have to say the words to her out loud.

 

_Galra._

 

Truth to be told, he was only half-galra. His father was human. But since Keith was a child he learned that it didn't really matter, no matter how far you travel on Earth or in universe. The 'galra'-word was like a red stamp on his ID and the remaining letters after a comma that said 'human' didn’t soothe the ugly truth. Keith was part of a race that everyone knew as hostile, oppressive, dangerous. He was the last piece of it.

 

He was almost impressed that Allura's reaction was so subtle.

 

_"So, Keith. Have you ever flown a spaceship?"_

 

Keith’s experience of flying a space ship only consisted of simulators and small shuttles from his time in Garison, his old school that brought up future pilots if you had the right amount of money. He knew he didn’t have enough experience. In spite of that fact hanging between them, Allura only put his ID aside and fixed him a narrowed gaze.

 

_"You would have to start from the scratch either way. Lions of Voltron are far different from anything ordinary people have ever flied. Do you have your CV with you?"_

 

Keith handed it over to her. His job experience wasn't long – only a few summer jobs as a waiter and a garbage-driver. She could see that he had been a student in Garison for two years, before he was kicked out.

 

_Unacceptable behavior and tendency for violent act._

 

She only raised her gaze and looked at Keith with serene calmness. It was odd how little Keith was bothered by her blue eyes on him; he always hated when people looked at him, no matter if it was a glance or a stare, the hate for it was a habit that grown on him over the years.

 

_Alright. Why do you think you would be useful to Voltron, Keith?_

 

It was a question that Keith didn’t think she would ask. The simple fact that she was still having a fake job interview with him was a mystery. His muscles were strained, his body ready to bolt at any moment because he knew he couldn't stomach the scene where he would be kicked out forcibly by copycats of “Men in Black”.

 

It took him more than ten seconds to answer while Allura waited quite patiently, though Keith could see the frown growing between her eyes. When he opened his mouth, he gave her the only answer a person like him could give.

 

“ _Because I'll give my everything.”_

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Keith doesn't really have an opinion about Taujeer. He doesn't hate it, even though it really has tried to kill him more than once. He doesn't actually feel sorry for its dying state either; it's normal for planets to die as it is normal for humans. Taujeer's nearing death won’t be remarkable either; it has no life on its surface anymore.

 

Keith steps out of his lion. He takes his equipment-bag and walks ahead few metres. He picks up a small portion of the ground's dust with spoon-like equipment, and takes out one of his many technical meters, letting it scan the substance to get a reading.

 

This is what he does, day after day. He doesn't complain because he has no right to. He's blessed to live alone without anyone's staring eyes and he has a future of some kind; it's so much more than anything that his father prepared him for.

 

It takes him over an hour before he's ready to go back. As he steps back inside Red's cockpit his mini-screen makes a buzzing sound. It's from Allura.

 

_I apologize for not participating in our meeting. Something has come up. I will video-call you later._

 

Keith frowns. Something came up?

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

 

He can't complain about food because he knows he's lucky that he even has food to begin with. But if he could complain about something... The food that Voltron Unit provides for them is tasteless and dry, light and easy to travel with. He’d kill for a burger. Of course the monthly travels for food help Keith to obtain more versatile food, but usually he gobbles it all right away, without savoring it like he should which means that he eats gloriously good food for over a week and then the same shit for three weeks.

 

He tries to chew calmly but his thoughts are too distracting as he waits for Allura's call. He doesn't know if the video call is going to be a group call or if it's something personal for him. He suspects it's the first option but he has no idea what it would be about. Usually when Allura says, "Something came up" it means that she has found a sign about something unexpected behavior in space like a new dark essence materializing close to one of them or a new black hole which would mean immediate actions of precaution. But other times it could mean that there is an emergency in some other planet.

 

It takes few hours before Allura sends him a message to call her. Keith spends that time by testing out examples and eyeing at the monitors that tell him about the different activities that Taujeer produces. Then he goes outside to keep Red some company, talking to her with his mind.

 

When Keith gets the message in his mini-screen, he leaves Red and opens his computer once again. It doesn't take long for Allura to pick up and Keith's surprised to notice that the conversation is going to be just between the two of them.

 

"What's going on?" is the first thing he asks.

 

Allura's face looks tight with stress. "Hello, Keith. I wanted to speak with you because one of our satellites picked up a signal close to Taujeer."

 

"Oh," Keith blinks. Out of all the things that he thought Allura's problem would be, this isn't one of them. "What kind of signal?"

 

"We are not sure, actually," she looks to her left and Keith suspects that Coran's standing close to her. "It's readable but not really any of the existing languages."

 

"Alien-technology?"

 

"I believe so," she pauses and Keith can faintly hear Coran's voice in the background. "It does seem similar to one language but it's a dead one."

 

Keith doesn't bother to ask more but waits. He raises one of his eye brows since Allura knows he doesn't bother pulling answers out of people.

 

"Keith, you should sit down, alright?"

 

"What do you think I'm doing? Tell me already."

 

"It's similar to language of Galra," she says it clearly and simply though her eyes seem unsure.

 

He tries to progress the words. He can almost hear how the synapses in his brain attempt to move the information around and around inside his head.

 

"Keith?"

 

Around and around.

 

He is supposed to be the last of Galra race. Last of the murderers that almost killed all of the Altean race. Part of the race that his father hated more than anything even though he made one pregnant.

 

Keith is the last one.

 

"I..." Keith blinks like his eyes have some dirt in them. "Are you sure? Even if it's similar it shouldn't mean much."

 

"You're right," Allura says with a calm voice. "But I think it's still a fact which we can't gloss over. The language of Galra is one of the kind, like you know."

 

How would he know actually? He can't speak one word of it. He has never had any tools or desire to learn.

 

"But the main matter is that the signal is very close to your location. It's momentum is relatively quick and I wanted to discuss with you about what we are going to do next."

 

"What do you want to do?" Keith starts to pick on his fingernails, also another bad habit. He has an urge to go outside and _sprint_ which is absurd; he hates running, he thinks it's pointless, even more pointless than other sports.

 

"Well," Allura moves so that there's enough space in front of the screen and then Coran's form comes to view. "We can send back-up to you if you want."

 

"I asked what _you_ want to do," Keith mutters. He hopes he could find some way to remove himself from the conversation or at least remove his emotions from it.

 

"Now, Keith," Coran chooses to speak out. "We know this isn't easy for you, but we still need your opinion about it."

 

"So," Keith sighs. "If I said I wanted to deal with this on my own, you would let me do it?"

 

He sees them look at each other and he hates the expressions on their faces.

 

"I think it would be an option," Allura says slowly. Coran seems to send her a surprised look. "But we would of course inform Pidge about this since she's the closest paladin to your location. In case you would need back-up."

 

Keith nods. Coran opens his mouth but gives him a meaningful glance instead. "We would have been warned if it was a large space ship or if there was any other kind of danger. But it was just a signal," Allura says. "Like someone wants us to know that they are there. We can't be sure if it's an emergency signal but we have to prepare for it."

 

"Alright."

 

"And if something were to happen, if the signal's sender is hostile, you would send an S.O.S. to Pidge."

 

Keith nods and hopes his face expresses the calmness he doesn’t feel at all.

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Keith smokes one of the few cigarettes he has while he waits. He doesn't smoke very often -- it's only on occasions when the stress becomes too much. Uncontrollable panic is also a valuable reason for it, but that's something he would never admit. This time he can't say which of those feelings he is feeling more. He's merely waiting for a potential villain or an unexpected hero, like Hunk or Lance might say.

 

He can't help but dread over the memory of his father's constant gaze on him. Always following him, waiting for him to make a mistake and cause a scene among people, even when they weren't in public -- a scene between the two of them would have been a crime enough. He doesn't hate his dad though. He just never knew what to make of him, no matter how old he was. And he always knew that the feeling was mutual.

 

Now he's alone, but still feels the constant stare.

 

He stumps the smoke under his boot, not caring about making a mess, and writing a mental note that he should ask for new boots. Knowing Allura she will only toss that errant to Coran, and knowing Coran, he will be getting new boots next week but they’d be yellow or green. Coran has said that he's too grumpy, regarding both his temper and clothes.

 

He takes a look at his space station. It's not much, smaller than the main station on Earth of course, but it’s a pretty comfortable one. It has enough space for him to sleep and work. He ponders over the possibility that the one heading towards him, who ever it is, might try to destroy it, his lion and him. Then he thinks about the possibility of it being someone that is going to bunk with him for a while. If this sender of the signal is friendly, Allura will look at the urgency of the situation and make a decision if she should hop into a wormhole right at the very moment or later.

 

He doesn't like too much company. Even the meetings with others are too much sometimes. But he supposes he can take it if it's all part of the work. But still it doesn't explain how it is all related to Galra. Keith is dead-sure about his position as the last one, like he is about the fact that millions of suns rise everyday even though he can't see them.

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

As Keith sees the object, it becomes clear that it's a mere shuttle which can only hold one person or two small children. With his heart in his throat he walks closer to the shuttle's likely landing spot, cautiously like he would walk to a mall. The pace of the shuttle has slowed down, its pilot clearly sure about its landing.

 

As the shuttle lands down with almost silent "thump", the heartbeat inside Keith's ears has gone quiet and all the small noises around him have disappeared -- he's holding his breathe and Red's presence near him is the only solid feel he has so he clings to it desperately. His lion doesn't comment on it, call him out in his rare moment of weakness, and Keith's is grateful for that. He breathes out slowly and decides he has waited long enough for someone or something to come out of the shuttle on their own. With steady steps he walks closer until his hand is touching its surface. He finds the exit-door and weighs his options before slamming his fist against it. He knows he's breaking every protocol that he can remember Allura teaching him but he's sure he is doing the right thing anyway, because the situation is what it is -- it's not a normal encounter with a stranger from space, it's someone who might be related to Keith's origin.

 

He waits more than thirty seconds, he's sure, before kicking the outside handle. Then he comes to his senses, realizing how threatening his actions must seem like.

 

"Fuck," he curses out loud. He switches on the speaker in his helmet, then yells out, "Is anyone in there? I'm the paladin of Voltron, the defender of the universe! Sorry if I scared you, that wasn't my intention! I come in peace! Please give me some kind of sign about your physical state!"

 

He says few words in different alien languages that he remembers, but overall, English is his only proper tool of communication.

 

Then he waits.

 

The noise of the space is back, the silent hum and his loud heart-beat. His head is thumping from raising adrenaline-level and stress but he waits patiently despite of it and the fact that his head is telling him to either run or fight makes him press his hand firmer to the cold metal of the shuttle.

 

 _Thirty seconds,_ he says to himself. _I'll wait another thirty seconds._

 

When nothing happens, when he can't even feel the shuttle vibrate from a possible movement that the pilot might do inside of it, he hops down from the exit-door and fishes out his mini-screen. He selects the voice-message option and tries out his most neutral voice, "Allura, it's Keith. I'm reporting about the signal's source. It's a shuttle, about five to seven meters long, width-- I don't know, I'll tell you when I have time to figure that out. But it's big enough for one person so I don't think this is a hostile entity. I've tried to communicate with them in every language I know and kicked at the shuttle but I can't hear any signs of someone being alive in there. The signal that you received -- I think it was a call for help. So, I'm going to bust the door open. When this reaches you, I've already done it so it's useless to try and stop me. Give me the lecture later, alright? I will contact you when I know more. Over."

 

He hits the send-button and then grabs his bayard from his belt. Depending on their location, paladins can be quite heavily-armed but a bayard is always their most valued weapon. Its form depends on its carrier and Keith's glad his consist of a sword and shield. The last thing he wants to try at first is Red's laser shots, so he settles for drawing out his sword and with all of his strength hits against the shuttle. The metal lets out an ugly sound which gives Keith hope.

 

Keith takes a few steps back, swallowing heavily. Then he runs towards the shuttle like he would do with an enemy and surges his sword into its metal. He can feel the joints on his shoulder snap from the force, but he keeps pressing until he hears the sound of the metal bending to his sword's will. He quickly pulls out the sword and looks at the thin cut he's made on the door. He shakes his hand, noticing how much it's shaking, before trying again. This time he wrings the sword, widening the hole before it's big enough for him to see inside properly. What he sees makes him flinch violently, like someone had just punched him.

 

Inside the shuttle is a figure, lying motionless and dressed in a space suit, in an ordinary, dirty white space suit. The helmet's solar shield is strangely clean and see-through, which gives Keith a perfect view of the figure's face.

 

_It's a human._

 

It isn't unheard of to find a human this far from Earth, but the fact that this one is alone, in a shuttle, flowing through the dark emptiness of space and sending signal that resembled Galra's code, is _impossible._

 

Keith vaguely notices how his lips are trembling from the pure shock of seeing the man. He's so completely frozen from confusion that he barely sees how the man's eyes open. Keith can see that his eyes are bright and he watches as the man's strong jaw moves, like he's trying to speak. Then he sees him grimace and move his arms carefully like in pain.

 

"Uh, hey," Keith can only say with a hoarse voice.

 

The man chooses to stay quiet or he can't speak, Keith isn't sure. He watches how the stranger's eyes blink behind the solar shield, slowly like in a dramatic movie.

 

Keith wakes up from the daze that's forced him to stay still and stare at the man, when he feels his lion's confusion wash over him like a cold wave.

 

"It's okay," he says out loud to the Red Lion, or maybe even to himself and the man. He takes a look around the rest of the shuttle and reaches out his hand. "Can you move? Do you understand me?"

 

The man's breathing turns ragged at his words. He can't say for sure how well the man sees through the solar shield so he waves his hand a bit, an awkward but necessary motion.

 

"Grab my hand if you can," he says, keeping his voice clear. He can feel the Red Lion getting impatient. The man seems to focus his gaze on Keith's suit-covered fingers. Keith's heart burns like sun when he sees the man's arm move. Then the hand is moving towards his own and he feels a flicker of fingers against his palm. The man seems to take a slow breath, trying to move himself up, his shoulders rising. The movement looks harsh and painful to Keith, so he kicks himself for being so slow and then bends lower, grabbing the stranger's hand. The man flinches but gives Keith's hand a weak squeeze. "Great job," Keith says like he would praise a little kid but the words seem to fit in the moment. "I'm going to pull you out now, okay? If you're in pain, try to keep your body relaxed. Let me handle this."

 

When he sees the man actually nod in a brief but firm manner, Keith gets the long-yearned confirmation that he understands him.

 

He moves his legs, aware of the fact that the angle is terrible, but it has to work. He has a strange urge to not let go of the man's hand before he has pulled him out of the shuttle. He bends his right arm and grips the man's bicep. He gives an experimental pull, keeping an eye on the man's face. When he doesn't show any reaction that would be a sign of pain, Keith pulls a little harder, the man's body moving like a heavy rag-doll.

 

When Keith hears him groan he stops immediately. "Are you in pain? If you can't speak, nod if I am hurting you?"

 

The man opens his mouth and says with a raspy voice that sounds drier than sand-paper, "No."

 

"'No' as in you're not in pain?"

 

"I'm not," the man says. To Keith's ears his voice sounds like it's coming from far away, behind many galaxies -- the situation is baffling and between them is the thick barrier of solar shield while the man can barely seem to speak.

 

"Okay, good. 'Cause I'm going to pull you out of there now, understand?"

 

"You shouldn't," Keith hears him say.

 

"Why?" he frowns. He watches as the man chooses to not answer his question, his expression unsure, like not even he himself knows the reason for his odd words. Keith gives him a questioning look as he takes a strong hold on his arm, his left hand abandoning the man's own one and moving his fingers to the wrist instead. His only answer is the other's gaze on him. He weighs the situation in his mind before deciding his next move.

 

He breathes out once and then starts pulling. The man's body begins to move, his back lifting off from the shuttle's wall. Keith grunts as he manages to bring the man closer to his own body and as their faces are at the same level, their solar shields clashing together accidentally, he supports their weight with his left arm, hand against the shuttle’s smooth surface.

 

“Hang on to me,” he says quickly when their balance starts to crumble. The man’s moves are clumsy so in the process of wrapping his arm around Keith’s shoulder, he knocks it against Keith’s head and for a moment, Keith’s sure they will fall down. Then the man’s whole weight is pressed against his body, an arm loosely hanging onto him. Only now it’s visible that the man is taller and more heavily-built than Keith, but he keeps his muscles taut and supports them both for a moment before speaking. “What I’m going to do next might freak you out, but just trust me. I know I’m asking a lot, but keep hanging on to me, okay?”

He watches as the man blinks at him, but he can’t spot any traces of fear on his face -- during the whole situation he hasn’t given Keith any signs of being scared of him or what is happening, only frown and a slight grimace tugging the corners of his mouth are evident. He nods and his grip on Keith’s shoulders gets a little bit tighter.

 

Keith turns to look at his Lion and immediately her eyes flash, only a second passes before she, as gracely as a big robot can, walks to them. The pilot’s mouth opens comically but his body stays almost eerily relaxed on Keith arms -- Keith doesn’t get cold feet easily, but if he was in the man’s situation, he wouldn’t be this calm. He nods at his Lion as she lowers her head to their level, bringing her nose close. “Open up, Red,” Keith says.

 

The Red Lion does as he says and then there is a blessed amount of legroom. Keith is able to move away from the shuttle, keeping the man’s arm wrapped around him. The Lion lowers them to the ground and they step on to the smooth and dusty surface of the moon. She stays observantly by their side as the man fumbles with his numb limbs.

 

“I must be heavy,” he says softly, trying to pull away from Keith.

 

“Can you walk?” Keith asks but as he has to grab the man’s arm again to prevent him from slipping on the ground, he gets his answer. “Let’s get you to my station so you can rest.”

 

“I feel like I’ve been doing that for a long time.”

 

“No harm in doing some more,” Keith adjusts his grip on him. “Let’s go. It’s right there.”

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Keith eyes at the man on his old, worn out couch (which origin is probably from the Voltron unit's storage). He doesn't like the color of the stranger's face -- it's too grey and hollow.

 

Keith is out of his league. He has gotten a proper training for helping others in need but not a training for this kind of need. The man is a silent passenger of a shuttle that fell from the deep space.

 

The man coughs and weighs the glass, that Keith brought him, on his hands.

 

"You should drink that," Keith suggests for the third time and is seriously starting to think about the option of forcing the liquid down the man's throat. "Seriously. You look like you need it."

 

Keith’s shoulders sag with relief when he sees the man take few sips.

 

"I..." the man begins. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit-"

 

When no more words come out of his mouth, Keith takes a look at his mini screen and at the open computer by his deck. He hasn't heard anything from Allura yet and it's troubling him in ways that he can't show to the man – regarding his reckless actions. he thought she would have teleported her fist to his face. He can only guess that something has occurred, something even more serious than the matter on his hands or then there might be a signal error once again.

 

When the man took off his space-suit, his body revealed to be covered in a black, skin-tight clothing. Now he has a blanket wrapped around his wide shoulders and Keith’s eyes are glued to his left hand -- it’s a metallic prosthetic with the smallest details Keith has ever seen in any model.

 

"Hey," Keith calls out to the man as if they were further apart from each other, though there isn't that much room in his small station. He swallows when grey eyes look into his own. "Can you tell me your name?"

 

"Shiro," the man answers like a robot whose hardcore has been tickled with electric tool. He looks almost confused when he says the name.

 

"Alright... You have to give me something better than that. So I can find out where you are from. What about your family name or something like that?"

 

"No," Shiro says and Keith bites back the argument on his tongue when Shiro lowers his head. "I... I can't remember."

 

"That should be normal. We don't know how long you've been in hyper-sleep. It takes a while for your brain to catch up."

 

Shiro doesn't seem to believe his poorly chosen comforting words, looking devastated. Keith can't say he understands him. There has been more than enough days when he hoped that he could forget everything related to himself, so a memory loss sounds only refreshing to him.

 

He sighs and stands up from his chair. "Relax. You'll remember it in time. Are you hungry?"

 

Shiro gives him a look that makes him freeze. He can't explain why but his eyes look hard and unforgiving but also curious and burning at the same time. Keith has heard that his violet-blue eyes are unique but anyone who has ever said that, clearly has never seen this guy.

 

Shiro gives a glance over the room. "Is it just me or is it hot in here?"

 

For unknown reasons Keith is still a bit shaken from their eye contact so he has to concentrate on keeping his voice neutral, "If you haven't noticed, we're in space. So there has to be a bit of a high temperature inside here."

 

Shiro frowns at him. "The station where I was-" he then shuts up his mouth, once again shocked at his own words.

 

"See? You mind is starting to clear out. What do you remember about your station exactly?"

 

"Not much. Only that it was... enormous. Just bits and bits," Shiro gives him crooked smile. "Quite different from this."

 

"Yeah," Keith sighs. He points a finger at the glass of water in Shiro's hands. The man gets the message and takes a proper gulp, waits for a bit, like expecting himself to throw up, but then relaxes. "This isn't the most advanced station. We have a solid budget but it only covers the essential expends."

 

"We?"

 

"Voltron Unit. The defender of the universe," it's surprisingly hard to keep sarcasm out of his voice. "Ring a bell?"

 

Shiro shakes his head.

 

"Anyway. The right balance between warm and cool in station temperatures is not one of the essential things."

 

He sees Shiro give a glance at his beanie. "It doesn't bother you then?"

 

"I'm alright," Keith says, kicking at the floor with his foot. "I've gotten used to it."

 

"What does the Voltron Unit do exactly?"

 

Keith looks at Shiro's eyes and is relieved to notice the brightness in them. He is still pale as a ghost but his mood has clearly perked up. He gives the man a slight smile. "I'll tell you later. How about that food?"

 

"I don't know if I can take it," Shiro says with unsure voice.

 

"Let's find out. You need some protein."

 

Shiro smiles at him and Keith can't help thinking that there is something very unique to his smile.

 

Keith doesn't have much to eat. He only has bread, few fruits and canned food, he can't really imagine that being ideal to someone who hasn't had a proper meal for god knows how long. He shows Shiro around his little kitchen space and Shiro seems satisfied with a little chunk of bread.

 

"Baby steps," Shiro murmurs.

 

Keith chooses to stay silent and eyes at Shiro, as he sits down back on the couch. He stares at the bread patiently, like trying to get used to idea of it going into his mouth. Keith doesn't know how many seconds pass but he can't help staring when Shiro takes a bite. And oh, the face the grey-eyed man makes.

 

Shiro's body seems to shiver at the taste and he closes his eyes. His expression screams of discomfort but at the same time Keith can make out glimpse of awe in the way his eyebrows shot up. He munches on the bread slowly and swallows hard. He seems to mutter something to himself and Keith can't make out the words, though he hopes he could. To someone like him, who is chained to routines and likes to dull his own heart because life is easier that way, it's almost inspiring to witness the scale of emotions on Shiro's face.

 

"You alright?" he asks with soft voice when Shiro has eaten the bread.

 

"I think so," Shiro blinks his eyes wearily. Then he glances at Keith's way. "Um, mind if I eat more of that?"

 

Keith tries to keep the corners of his mouth down. He's slightly alarmed at the sudden urge to smile. "No, be my guest."

 

Shiro seems to be in a trance for a while before processing his words. Then he nods and, on the contrary of Keith, letting his small smile show. Keith checks at his computer and mini screen while Shiro wanders to the kitchen. He sees one message from Allura.

 

_"There is something wrong with the signal again. I hope this message reaches you. Tell me if you are alright or in any kind of danger."_

 

He types his message, keeping himself blunt so he doesn't confuse Allura for nothing before they can talk properly. _"Everything is fine. There is not any kind of danger. I'll tell you the details later."_

 

As he raises his head, he notices how Shiro looks curious about the mini screen on his hands. He chews on his food with a pondering expression on his face and it looks so comical that it makes Keith remember the old cartoons that he would sometimes watch from TV. He meets Shiro's gaze and silently challenges him to ask. He doesn't feel comfortable explaining technical stuff to other people because he's bad at it -- he only understands the facts and uses them to his benefit, and he can't really relate to the ones who need guiding. But he has a feeling that Shiro would understand him quickly.

 

But Shiro stays quiet, only eyeing at the mini screen and then moving his gaze to elsewhere in the station. Keith tears his own eyes away from the clear view of his throat.

 

Then the silence falls and its lack of inconvenience is surprising.

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

It takes a little more than an hour for the computer to let out the usual, dull ring-tone. Shiro seems to jump a bit at the voice but it's barely noticeable. He's sitting silently on the couch and Keith has to give him some respect for trying his best to not bother Keith, though he must have many questions.

 

Keith glances at him before clicking. Allura's face pops into view. "Keith!" she sounds out of breath. "Is the situation stable?"

 

"I told you, I'm fine. Did you figure out what was wrong with the signal? The usual?"

 

"That's--" she sputters. "That's not relevant right now! What happened with the shuttle?"

 

Keith can feel Shiro's eyes on him. "I think-- You should probably hear that from the pilot."

 

"What?" Allura gasps out. The color of her face changes only a shade paler but Keith notices it immediately.

 

He nudges his head at Shiro. "You should come here and explain yourself."

 

The muscles on Shiro's jaw tighten and his posture is tense. But in an army strict fashion, he stands up and walks to Keith. He bends down a little, making Keith consider pulling a spare chair for him until he realizes there is only one. When Allura sees Shiro's face, her arm stretches out beyond view of the screen, doing something -- she keeps her face neutral but the shock is clear on her eyes.

 

Shiro clears his throat, surprisingly professional. "Um. Hello. My name is Shiro. I'm the... 'pilot'."

 

Allura swallows slowly, her eyes roaming around Shiro's face. After a long while, she opens her mouth. "My name is Allura Leonhart. I am the founder of Voltron Unit, as known as 'The Defender of the Universe'. Keith is one of my employees, the paladin of Voltron. Your name is Shiro?"

 

"That's correct."

 

Allura narrowed her eyes. "Just Shiro? Is that your surname or last name?"

 

"I can't remember."

 

Keith pushes his face closer to the screen, shielding Shiro from Allura's doubtful gaze. "His memory is a bit hasty -- he appeared to be in hyper sleep when I found him."

 

"A hyper sleep?" Allura asks. "The shuttle must have moved on an autopilot then."

 

"It was," Keith nods.

 

Allura glances down and drowns in her thoughts for a moment. Keith hears a noise from the background and Allura looks at her left. "Allura, you called?" -- soon Coran's face appears on the screen. "Hello there, Keith!" he says with his usual energetic voice. "And you too, stranger! You've been such a mystery to us so it's an honor to finally meet you!"

 

"Hi," Keith says.

 

"Hello," Shiro nods. "I'm so sorry for troubling you all."

 

Coran and Allura look at each other before Allura speaks again with her most diplomatic voice. "I think the priority for me is to sent Coran to your aid. This situation is abnormal for us, but we should follow it with the usual protocol for unusual situations."

 

"It should take half a day for me to arrange that and maybe another half or a bit more to get there with few wormholes jumps," Coran says while looking at the tablet on his hands. "It requires very much energy."

 

Allura confirms his words by nodding.

 

"Sure, we'll do what you guys want," Keith shrugs.

 

"Also," she once again looks at Shiro's face comprehensively. "You appear to be human. We should inform the Earth's International Space Department. Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

 

Shiro's expression is unsure. "I can't remember anything personal. But I do remember the things humans learn at school. Writing, reading and mathematics for example."

 

Keith blinks at him. "Do you remember which school?"

 

"No," Shiro answers.

 

"That's alright," Allura nods. "The most important thing is that you haven't forgotten the essential things. I'm sure your memory catches up to you in time."

 

"Hyper sleep can do that you," Coran says. "I remember back in my younger days when I woke up from one -- I was convinced that I was the chosen child of Weblum."

 

"You had also enjoyed some of the famous hallucination candy rocks from Altean shop-keeper," Allura points out.

 

Keith rolls his eyes, his gaze falling on Shiro – there's almost a fond smile on his face.

 

"Anyway," Allura continues. "We will start the preparations. How is the shuttle?"

 

"I... I left it outside," Keith says.

 

Allura sighs, pressing the tips of her long fingers against her forehead, like she was having a headache. "Keith. The protocol."

 

"Yeah, I know."

 

"Clearly you don't."

 

"I was busy carrying this guy inside."

 

"That was hours ago."

 

Keith opens his mouth again but surprisingly Shiro beats him to it. "I'm sure Keith stayed with me because of my unstable condition. I was groggy and hungry, so he figured keeping an eye on me was the best solution."

 

Keith tries to keep his eyes away from Shiro's face after those words, only giving Allura and Coran a neutral look before nodding.

 

"I see," Allura answers curtly. "Alright, Keith. Did you at least let monitors scan Shiro?"

 

"Of course I did," he mumbles out.

 

"Well. Go inspect that shuttle as soon as possible but still be on guard. Keep your bayard close and let Red give you cover. I won't take any risks. And inform me when you have gotten it inside the station safe. And send an emergency signal if anything bad happens."

 

 _It's just a shuttle,_ Keith wants to say but decides against it. He nods.

 

"Shiro. Take it easy and tell Keith if you feel your condition weakening. And please report your possibly emerging memories to him . We need to know everything so we can get you back to your family."

 

The look that crosses Shiro's face then is a strange one. Keith feels like it's a very familiar one to himself, but he can't say why. Shiro's eyes turn hard and the corners of his mouth shudder a bit – it's a distant flash of a dark memory.

 

"Are we clear now?" Allura's voice makes Keith wipe his head back and look at the screen.

 

"Yes," Shiro says firmly like she was his employer and not Keith's.

 

"Got it," Keith says.

 

The familiar faces on the screen disappear and the computer presents the information of the call. Shiro's presence almost oozes curiousness while Keith ignores it, turning off the device. He stands up and heads to the lockers without saying a word.

 

"Wait, Keith!" Shiro's footsteps accompany his call. Keith's name falling from Shiro's lips makes him realize that he never introduced himself personally to the guy. "Can I help you somehow?"

 

Keith halts for a moment. "You don't need to. I'll use Red to get that shuttle inside."

 

"Your Red Lion?"

 

Keith nods shortly before turning around and continuing. "You can eat anything you find. There are a few books so entertain yourself, this could take a moment. But don't touch anything else."

 

"Alright," Shiro answers with that same firm voice he used with Allura. It makes Keith's skin crawl in the strangest ways.

 

He waves a hand at Shiro before leaving.

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Red's voice is a crumble inside his head, right next to his own feeling of irritation as they struggle to bring the shuttle inside the station. In all honesty, it isn't that hard, only a pain in the ass. Compared to Keith himself, Red is massive and a force of nature (she can't be referred to something like force of science because though the lions are robots, their essence is something one less cynical would call "magic"), but beside a heavy, relatively big space craft she isn't as invincible as Keith thought. Red Lion is the quickest and most compatible of the five lions and if Keith knows something for sure, it is how to move with Red. In a task like this though, more likable partner would be Hunk's yellow lion which has the strongest armor.

 

It takes almost an hour for them to succeed. Keith uses a big amount of the station's generators to scan the whole shuttle, make sure it doesn't carry any diseases, though he is on his toes for clues also. But as it's clear that his only clue is the man the shuttle brought with it, he doesn't know if the feeling of relief overcomes the growing disappointment.

 

"Thanks, Red," he says out loud, wiping sweat off his forehead. He doesn't exactly move while controlling his Lion, but especially when moving something heavy or curving between flowing space trash, he needs to concentrate with all his mind. He has woken many times at night, clutching his pillow like he would grasp on Red's control panels, knuckles white and head aching.

 

 

Red hums as an answer. Keith touches her leg with a swift move before telling her to go rest. She takes her usual place at the hangar and leaves Keith's mind silent.

 

After Keith has gotten rid off his space-suit, he finds Shiro looking at one of his old books, prosthetic fingers turning the pages slowly, not exactly reading, but invested in the content. Keith sees the familiar deep blue cover. It's a book about sharks. He makes sure his steps are loud enough for Shiro to wake up from his thoughts as he enters the room. Sure enough Shiro raises his gaze and he aims a smile at Keith's way, the easiness of it hitting Keith like a flash of headache. He's not used to people being relaxed around him, except his co-workers.

 

"Did it work out?" Shiro asks.

 

"Yeah," Keith sighs and makes his way to the freezer. "Eventually. Red is not the best lion for a job like that."

 

He takes a glass of water, before settling on his chair.

 

"Can you tell me more about the lions?" Shiro asks, putting the book away.

 

“They’re all individuals. Red is the quickest, but also hard to control at times. Blue has icing powers, Yellow is the slowest, but has the best armor. According to Pidge, the Green Lion is the smartest one, but she’s biased.”

 

“Pidge?”

 

“One of the other paladins, the Green Lion’s pilot.”

 

“Do you think Red is the smartest then?”

 

“Possibly, but then I’m biased too. The Black Lion is probably the smartest one. Allura pilots her. Or him. I’m not sure.” Talking with his ‘guest’ makes Keith feel out of breath, exhausted in a strange way. He doesn't know if it's because of Shiro himself or the situation they are in.

 

Shiro only nods, seemingly satisfied enough with Keith's answer for now. He shifts on the couch, looking for a comfortable position. Keith takes a look at his hair – it's messy and white on top, but the undercut is dark. He then drags his eyes along the thick arms, the size of them making him feel like his body belongs to a three-year-old, then lower to his muscular legs. The man was _fit._

 

"I should probably change?" Shiro speaks out.

 

His voice startles Keith. "Uh, yeah," he looks away, feeling an awkward wave wash over him. "I'm sorry."

 

"No, don't apologize."

 

"What?" Keith yelps with a soft, helpless tone. The smile on Shiro’s lips almost makes him sweat.

 

"I mean, it must look weird," Shiro moves his prosthetic arm, clenching and unclenching his fingers.

 

Keith hopes he could crawl under the covers of his bed and stay there for the rest of evening, but that would be childish. "No," he sighs slowly, trying to smother his embarrassment and silently swearing he would not stare at any man ever again. "Those are not that uncommon."

 

"I have no idea how I got it," Shiro mutters, almost like talking to himself.

 

"You'll remember," Keith says. "You're right, though. You should probably change. I mean, that-- that can't be very comfortable."

 

Shiro looks down at his attire and chuckles under his breath. "Do you have any change of clothes?"

 

"There should be something lying around that fits you."

 

Keith walks to his bedroom, Shiro trailing after him dutifully. They find a pair of worn-out shorts, that were always too big for Keith, and a black top. Keith waits for Shiro in the living room and when he comes back, changed, Keith has to remember his promise and look everywhere else but at Shiro.

 

"It's a little tight," Shiro states the obvious. Even the socks on his feet are too small, almost exposing his heels. Keith feels like he's sitting in front of a swimsuit model.

 

"It's not," Keith answers.

 

Shiro lets out a snort which turns into a laugh, the sound of it bubbling around the room. Keith tries to hide the smile that's forming on his lips, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

It's stupid, it's all so stupid.

 

"I'll send a message to Allura and ask if Coran can bring some clothes for you," he says.

 

"Good idea," Shiro sighs and sits back down on the couch, but he flinches when his stomach lets out a growling sound, the loudest Keith has probably ever heard.

 

He glances at Shiro's stiff posture. "Go on, eat anything you want. Make yourself at home."

 

Shiro looks at him again with that gaze, mix of fragility and wisdom, and Keith can't help but wonder what must be going through his head. "Thank you," Shiro's voice is sincere and the low tone pleases Keith. "For everything you have done today. I mean it."

 

"Anyone would have done the same," he says automatically. Then he shakes his head, because it's not true. "I'm the paladin of Voltron, after all. That's what we do."

 

"You help others?"

 

"Kind of. It depends. Sometimes we help people in trouble and other times we might end up just cleaning up trash on some planet."

 

Shiro looks thoughtful, but decides to fetch food for himself before asking anymore. As he disappears into the kitchen, Keith takes out his mini-screen and sends the message to Allura.

 

"Keith?" Shiro's voice emerges from the kitchen.

 

"Mmm?"

 

"What's this... pink thing? Is it a fruit?"

 

"Probably. It's eatable though, tastes a bit like pear," then he frowns. "Do you remember what pears are?"

 

"Yeah, I used to eat them as a kid."

 

The weight of the pause is defeating between them and Keith's heart starts beating a bit quicker. "Shiro?" he asks.

 

When he only hears hard breathing, he quickly gets up on his feet, his toes scraping against the floor in his hurry and when he sees Shiro in the kitchen, he swallows at the way the man is holding his head, a pained expression on his face.

 

"Are you alright?" Keith asks softly, reaching out for Shiro's arm, but then he stops himself mid-way.

 

"I'm fine," Shiro says, cracking an eye open at Keith. "My head doesn't want me remembering things apparently. I don't know how I suddenly remembered a thing about my childhood, the mention of pears must have triggered something. But when I tried to remember anything else, this ache kicked in."

 

"Just take it, easy. There's no hurry," Keith still has an urge to hold Shiro's arm, like the action would steady him in some way, but he isn't sure if Shiro would appreciate the gesture at the moment. "Here," he walks around the small space, grabbing a glass and pouring water in it. He hands it to Shiro. "Drink up."

 

Shiro straightens his posture, looking a bit wobbly, and takes the glass. "Thanks."

 

As he drinks the water, Keith takes the bread and fruits from the table that Shiro left there and brings them to the living room with him. Shiro follows him and sits down beside Keith on the couch. Keith watches in silence as he takes a bite from the fruit, and his stare either goes unnoticed by Shiro or he doesn't mind.

 

"Do you feel better?" Keith asks.

 

"A bit, yeah. Still out of breath."

 

Keith hesitates before raising his hands and the movement catches Shiro's gaze. "Um, can I... take a look? I know a thing or two about health check-ups."

 

Grey eyes look at him with a wary gaze but Keith sees no fear in them. Fear seems to be a non-existing concept for Shiro. Shiro nods, turning his body towards Keith. He even closes his eyes which makes Keith feel like there's an uncomfortable weigh on his chest. "You don't have to do that," he points out but Shiro only hums as an answer, keeping his eye-lids down.

 

Keith can't understand him. He doesn't know if Shiro's incredible trust and fearlessness is due to the memory loss or if he has always been that way. He can't even imagine the things that Shiro must have gone through to get here, but he knows he himself wouldn't be so at easy with a stranger.

 

Slowly, he presses his fingers against the sides of Shiro's throat, the muscles firm while the skin covering them is smooth, a slight layer of sweat on it. Keith pauses to think about the sweat, the temperature of the station surely isn't that high, and considers the option that Shiro might have a fewer. He slightly presses on the skin, checking for possible turgidity. When he can't feel anything alarming, he feels Shiro's forehead with his right palm – it's warm, normal. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

 

He tries not to fidget as their eyes connect. A flicker inside Shiro's bright eyes is like a distant star, far and something that makes you feel lonely if you keep looking at it for too long. He moves the lamp on the small shelf closer, turning the light on them so he can see Shiro's pupils better. They react to the light normally, growing smaller into little dots. He roams his gaze around Shiro's face and feels the strong jawline in his hand before pulling away. "You seem alright. I think the headache is a normal symptom for the memory loss, not to mention the shock you still must be feeling."

 

Shiro progresses his words and the lazy way his face relaxes speaks of exhaustion. "Were you a nurse before this?"

 

The chuckle is out before Keith can stop it. "No, we just gotta know these things as paladins. Sometimes we have to rescue people from really tight spots. I'm the worst with these things though. Lance is the best."

 

"Oh?" Shiro gives him a wry smile. "I feel bad for asking about the lions and not the pilots. Are you close with them?"

 

"As close as I could be, I guess," Keith says truthfully. Lance, Pidge and Hunk are a compact group of three and Keith can't imagine himself being part of it. He's unsure if he is ever going to want to be part of it. He's come this far with them mostly because of Allura and her social skills. Even though he has to admit that the others accepted his Galra heritage relatively quickly, which must have been because all the four of them had something in common – they were outsiders, in their own way. "And it's okay, I would have asked about the lions first, too."

 

Shiro looks pleased to hear him say that and takes more food from the table. "Do the pilots match their lions?"

 

"I think so. When you have a Lion, the bond is constant even when you're not piloting them," at this point Keith struggles to explain without sounding too much of a lunatic. "We communicate with thoughts and feelings."

 

"That's fascinating, I've never heard anything like it."

 

"Of course you haven't, you don't have any memories," he says, but regrets his words when Shiro stops chewing on his food. "I mean, I-"

 

"It's okay, you're right," Shiro shrugs. "I'm going to guess it's not that common though?"

 

Keith looks at him warily. Shiro catches his stare and waits for his response without anything else visible on his face but easiness. It's eerie, like watching a robot interact like human but never reaching any negative feelings, only scraping the surface. "It's not," he answers. "Allura's father, Alfor, created them with some of his friends. I don't know much about it, only that they are a mix of science and something magical."

 

"I don't think everything is supposed to be explained. Some things need to be left as a mystery."

 

"Yeah, you're right," Keith agrees. He has never been interested in solving everything unexplained. "Are you full?" he gestures at the crumbles of eaten bread on Shiro's shorts.

 

Shiro seems a bit bashful of the mess he's made as he nods, brushing the crumbles away.

 

"You look exhausted. Want to hit the bed?"

 

"Yeah, I guess I should," he pauses and the muscles on his jaw seem to tighten like he's holding out a yawn.

 

Keith stands up, but blinks at Shiro when he gets comfortable on the couch. "What are you doing? You're taking the bed."

 

"Huh? But what about you?"

 

"I've not been in hyper-sleep and I don't have a possible brain damage, but yeah, I'm the fragile flower here," Keith shifts his weight on his right leg, crossing his arms.

 

"But it's your bed," Shiro insists.

 

"Take it this way then; I saved you and you're in my station, so if I say you take the bed, then you will take the bed."

 

Keith's frown and words are satisfyingly quick at changing Shiro's mind. "Alright," he sighs and stands up.

 

They walk into Keith's bedroom, the dim lighting settling them into a calm, quiet atmosphere. Keith grabs the sheets from the bed and opens his closet. "Here's new ones for you."

 

Shiro thanks him and Keith stands close to him, unsure if he should say something else. Shiro glances at him. "Wake me up if anything happens."

 

Keith's eyes catch the movement of muscles on Shiro's arms as he moves to take out the spare sheets.

 

"I think I can manage. Just concentrate on resting," he turns around and leaves the room without another word, a nameless feeling burning inside his chest.

 

When he's finally alone and the soundless hum lowers itself down around his head like a cover, he remembers to check his mini-screen. He finds a message from Allura. She agrees to send suitable clothes for Shiro. After that, he reads a sentence which makes him pause.

 

_"Refrain from telling him you're Galra."_

 

Keith feels how his mouth forms a sneer, like his face is working on autopilot, a reaction that he can't help. Hastily he reads the rest _"We_ _don't want to risk him feeling uncomfortable"_ , _"I'm so sorry about this"_ , and then he is ripping of his beanie, because the fabric doesn't bring comfort anymore, but makes him feel suffocated. The sudden anger is intense, it burns his lungs like a monster clawing with its talons. He hates that message and he hates how even Allura can say something like that so easily. He hates how, for a moment when he spoke with Shiro, he felt like a normal human. He drops his mini screen, hoping that the hard surface of floor breaks it.

 

When he hears a noise, maybe a rustle of sheets from his bedroom, he flinches and makes a movement to hide his ears. It only takes a second for him to realize what he has done, recognize the familiar feeling of fear. He bites his lip to smother any angry voice that he might let out and pulls his fingertips away from his ears. He doesn't spare the force on his steps though, as he walks to bathroom, locking the door behind him. It's a small, dimly-lit room, where Keith has spent his worst nights in, hiding even though he knew there was no one in the whole moon except him.

 

He slowly glances at the mirror. Takes in the purple cat-like ears on top of his head, breathing deeply. He's used to them, of course he is. He's had them his all life. But there was a time when he couldn't look at them, a long period that lasted almost three years. Some days that desire for denial comes back and he can't look in the mirror. He looks at the crack on the upper corner of the mirror and he can feel the small scar on his knuckle.

 

He leans against the sink, his mind reeling. He understands Allura – in a situation like this, they have to be careful. If Shiro saw Keith's Galra ears, it could trigger him, provoke to do something reckless. After all, everyone in the Universe knows what a Galra is. Keith is used to hiding – he prefers to hide his ears when he is amongst people, because for a Galra, walking in a crowd can end up badly. But otherwise, he likes to rip off the bandage right at the start. He knows that hiding the truth is useless in a longshot.

 

Keith opens the door after few minutes. He goes back to living room, and listens to the sounds of the station. He can hear Shiro's silent snoring. He takes his mini-screen and sends a message to Allura, agreeing to her terms. He picks up his beanie from the floor, putting it back on his head and takes a more comfortable position on the couch. From the corner of his eye, he glances at the book that Shiro had been reading, abandoned on the table. For a while, he debates if he should read it but even before he knows it, his mind goes blank, sleep claiming him as its' own.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

He doesn't dream, but he flinches awake like one would when having a nightmare. He's grateful he doesn't let out any sound though, because as his eyes scan the room, he sees Shiro looking at his computer, then glancing at Keith.

 

Shiro raises his hand as a greeting. "Did you sleep well?"

 

"What are you doing?" Keith asks, highly alert of every move Shiro is making.

 

"Nothing, I was just looking around. I didn't touch anything if that's what you're afraid of."

 

Keith grunts as an answer, sitting up. His necks protests and he groans softly which makes Shiro frown. "What did I tell you? You should-"

 

"Let it be. Act like a proper victim for a while."

 

"I have a feeling I would make a terrible victim so I'm gonna pass."

 

Keith rolls his eyes, stands up and goes to grab food from the kitchen. When he comes back, Shiro looks at him, his expression unsure.

 

"What?" Keith asks with his mouth full of dry cereals.

 

"What kind of education do you need to be a paladin of Voltron?"

 

The question is reasonable. "I don't have any proper education. Just few months in Garrison."

 

"Garrison?"

 

"Galaxy Garrison, a school on Earth that’s for people who want to study space travel."

 

"You said few months though?"

 

"I got kicked out."

 

"Oh," for the first time Shiro seems to regret his curiosity. Keith kind of feels sorry to see that spark of light inside his eyes go dimmer. "I'm sorry to hear that."

 

Keith can't help asking as he looks at Shiro intently, "Why? Kicking me out means that I did something stupid."

 

"Did you?" Shiro expression is not accusatory.

 

Keith eats the last crumble of bread and decides he is too groggy to talk about those years. "I kind of did," he says and it's not a lie, "It wasn't entirely my fault, on that part you are right."

 

Shiro nods at his answer, somehow sensing Keith doesn't care talking about the subject.

 

"Do you want something for breakfast?" Keith asks.

 

The white fluff of hair moves slightly when Shiro shakes his head. "No, I'm fine, thanks. When is your shift starting?"

 

"I don't really have a work schedule. I do the same things everyday and overall it takes me maybe two or three hours."

 

"What is it that you do?"

 

When Keith frowns at the question, Shiro chuckles. "I'm sorry for all these questions, it's just really fascinating."

 

"Try doing it for years and then tell me if it's still fascinating."

 

Shiro's eyes are sharp, he has clearly slept much more than Keith, as he says, "What about this -- When I ask you a question, you can ask me one."

 

"Are we kids now?" he asks with a dry tone. "And it's not a good idea, you saw what happened yesterday when you remembered something."

 

"Let's poke my brain a bit more," the expression Shiro wears is the same Keith has seen on Lance and Pidge's face, when they start bickering, not the annoying kind of bickering that Keith does with Lance, but something that has warm undertones.

 

Keith wants to say no. It's risky and Shiro's health should become first in any circumstances. But he is curious too, so curious that his sleep last night was filled with nightmares and memories from past. "Are you sure?" he asks instead. When Shiro nods, he knows he can't stop himself. "Okay."

 

He signs Shiro to sit down anywhere and tries to keep up his relaxed pose when the man chooses to sit down beside him. He can see the metal arm glint in the light, like mocking him while hiding its mystery.

 

"Did you ask me what I do?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Keith tells him about Taujeer. He can admit that he tries to be as quick about it as he can, because he doesn't find the subject that interesting, while he is dying to ask something from Shiro. Shiro's eyes shine with excitement though, listening keenly to every word Keith says, and the concentration he has, is something Keith doesn't think he has seen before.

 

"How long have you been here?"

 

Keith glares at him. "That's another question for another round. My turn," he glances at Shiro's arm. "Where did you lose your arm?"

 

The expression on Shiro's face doesn't shift, but he can see a twist on the corners of his lips. "I don't remember."

 

"Try."

 

Shiro sighs, silent for few seconds, before looking away. "Nothing."

 

"You said we should poke your memory a bit. That's not poking, that's smoothing."

 

"That's... true," another sigh leaves Shiro's mouth. "Last time it happened, it was out nowhere. Maybe it doesn't need poking, just time," he looks at his arm, his mind clearly absent and out of Keith's reach before he turns to look back at Keith. "Actually..."

 

Keith isn't sure how someone like Shiro with strong-looking arms and big hands, manages to grab his hand so gently, and the movement is slow enough for Keith to stop it, like Shiro means for it to be stopped if Keith wishes so.

 

Keith's hand touches Shiro's metallic arm before he even realizes it. It feels smooth, smoother than normal skin tissue ever could, but it's not cold either, it's warm to the touch like someone had kept their fingers on it for hours. Keith tries not to flinch, because the reality is, even though he feels like he should pull his hand away, that he wants to touch it. It's not greed for physical touch, but something different, maybe the same curiosity that takes the hold of Shiro everytime he opens his mouth and asks Keith a question -- not necessarily seeking for social interactions but still craving for something similar, wanting to know the person near himself.

 

Shiro lets out a soft noise, keeping Keith's hand splayed on his arm. "I thought it would trigger something, but guess not."

 

"Why?" Keith croaks out like a frog, the proper eloquence leaving him because his brain feels fried.

 

"No reason," Shiro shrugs and finally drops his hold. He then looks at Keith silently, when the hand stays on his arm.

 

Keith blinks and draws his hand away, shame burning his face. "I'm sorry," he says with an awkward tone. He hates it.

 

"It's alright, buddy," Shiro says, the last word coming out like a reflex. Keith frowns at it -- they are not buddies and the word hangs heavy between them. "Oh," Shiro says with a strange voice.

 

Keith glances at his face, forgetting his embarrassment. Shiro's expression is something he can't read at the moment, the grey eyes still and unmoving. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

 

"I..." Shiro clears his throat. "I think my dad called me that. Buddy."

 

"What?" Keith sits more straight on the couch, leaning closer to Shiro. "Are you sure? What's his name?"

 

"I don't know," Shiro's smile is rueful, glancing at the room and not Keith. "I only remember his face and the word 'dad', and how he has that nickname for me. He has dark hair, like... Like I have..."

 

Suddenly Shiro stands up and scrambles out of the living room. Keith's pulse quickens, he sits still and debates whether he should run after Shiro or wait. He slowly get up when he hears the bathroom door close, walking towards the sound. Few seconds tick by before he hears vomiting. He quickens his pace and when he is in front of the door, he presses his fingers against it, his instincts telling him to bang on it, but he knows better. He waits, listening how Shiro empties his stomach, trying to stop the trembling of his body. He doesn't know why his legs keep shuddering, why his palm is sweaty against the door. Maybe it's the fact that it makes him feel uneasy to know that Shiro is hurting.

 

"Shiro?" he asks softly when the sounds stop and Shiro has been silent for a moment. "I'll leave you alone if you want, but tell me are you okay."

 

A heavy cough can be heard. "I'm alright," Shiro's voice says behind the door. Keith hears him flush, the system dumping the vomit to somewhere in space. "You should go, the smell is pretty horrible."

 

"Doesn't bother me. You don't know what kind of things I've smelled before," he says truthfully. For a moment his mind travels to a past time where he is sitting on the ground, watching people pass him by and feeling the pee stains on his thighs and his jeans.

 

There's a pause before Shiro decides to open the door. The smell isn't pleasant, but it doesn't even make Keith cringe, he only looks at Shiro's pale and defeated face.

 

"Poking was a bad idea," he says.

 

"Not necessarily. It worked, even though it made me feel like shit. And the poking didn't really trigger it, it was me myself."

 

"Did you remember anything else?" he dares to ask.

 

"I remember my father's face pretty well now. And I know I haven't always looked like this," he glances at the mirror and slowly touches his hair. "I remember that I had my father's hair, dark brown. I don't know why it looks like this now. I looked at myself in the mirror and then felt sick."

 

"Maybe you just dyed it?"

 

"Maybe. I have a strong feeling I was pretty much the same age as now when I adapted to this look," like an afterthought, he touches the scar on his nose. "I didn't have this either back then."

 

For the scar, Keith doesn't have a good excuse. He doesn't want to upset Shiro anymore though, so he says nothing. Shiro looks to be in his thoughts, but the silent moment is broken by the message sound of Keith's mini-screen, abandoned in the living room. Keith spares a quick glance at Shiro before he goes to fetch it.

 

The message is from Allura.

 

_"We are having a meeting in an hour. I won't be able to attend, but the other paladins promised to be there. Shiro may participate, I've kept every paladin aware of the situation, and they would like to meet him."_

 

Keith can't explain the cold feeling he has about introducing Shiro to others. Maybe it's fear, they are all pretty loud and it might trigger something. Maybe it's the fact that he doesn't want to break the silent atmosphere that they have around them.

 

"Something wrong?"

 

"Nothing," Keith mutters. "I'm gonna go down to the Red Lion's hangar."

 

"Okay," Shiro says. "Going to work?"

 

"No, we have a meeting in an hour with other paladins so get ready."

 

"What- me?"

 

"Yes, you," Keith says before stalking away.

 

As he gets to the hangar and greets Red, he sits down beside her paw and sighs. Red doesn't ask questions, only spreads warmth into his mind, affection like a spark that relaxes his muscles.

 

"You know, Red," he whispers. "I don't like him."

 

They both know he's lying. His interest for Shiro is baffling, because Keith doesn't get interested in people.

 

He could say it's because Shiro might be a link to his past, and even though he has tried and succeeded leaving it behind, he can't help but feel drawn to it. Even after all he's seen and experienced, he wants to believe there is a Galra somewhere, alive and not as bad as everyone thinks. If it was true, it would give him the hope he needed -- he wouldn't have to fear turning into something that everyone despised. He wouldn't be an exception to the rule, but a beginning of a new rule.

 

Burning sparks that Red sends him force him to explore the other possibility. He remembers staring at Shiro's strong legs and muscular arms as he stood in front of Keith in those small, tight clothes, making Keith forget what swallowing down your own drool meant. He ogling at someone's physique is something that has never happened before. He has never stopped to think what kind of person he would find attractive and he had always thought the whole idea of it wasn't for him anyway. But he can't deny the feeling he got when Shiro touched his hand. It was sudden, but an intense rush of feeling that didn't leave him alone even now.

 

He bangs the back of his head against Red's paw.

 

Red clearly doesn't understand, she only gives him her support in her own way -- she softly moves her paw under Keith, telling him to stop sulking. Keith almost falls down on the cold floor and he glares at Red.

 

"Useless, stupid robo--" he mutters, but Red growls at him, and he stands up. "Fine, I'm going!" he gives her paw a firm pat, thanking her in his own way too.

 

As he steps back into his living room, Shiro is nowhere to be seen. Keith doesn't want to be on his tail all the time, but he has to make sure everything is fine -- he walks to his bedroom and finds Shiro there, pulling at the covers.

 

Keith clears his throat. "What are you doing?"

 

Shiro glances at him and the pleasant jolt inside Keith's stomach, when he sees Shiro blushing, annoys him immediately. Shiro looks at himself. "I thought I'd cover myself a bit for that meeting you talked about. And since we don't have any other fitting clothes, I figured I should use the sheets."

 

Keith snorts. "C'mon, it's okay. They have seen muscles before," he tries to not feel embarrassed about addressing the reason why his brain is a mess. "And you're making this sound like something serious. It's just a quick meeting that Allura arranged for you to meet others."

 

"Oh," Shiro seems to relax a bit.

 

The contrast between his god-like body and shyness is confusing. Keith shrugs. "If you want to wear sheets as clothes and look like a toddler though, then be my guest."

 

He walks back to living room, leaving Shiro to deal with his bashful problem, and sits in front of his computer. He glances at his mini-screen and sees a message from Lance.

 

_"You thought you could keep him all to yourself, eh? Avoid being you and scaring him away, please."_

 

Keith clicks his tongue and rubs his forehead. He doesn't have anything to answer Lance, because there is some truth in his words. Keith usually scares others away with his Galra ears, but his attitude isn't anything appealing either. He pauses, changing his mind, and starts typing an answer.

 

_"You can't tell him I'm Galra. Allura's orders."_

 

Lance's answer is quick.

 

_"We know. I'm sorry about that, man."_

 

"Don't start being tolerable now," Keith mutters. He adjusts the beanie on his head and turns around just in time to see Shiro, fortunately or unfortunately, he isn't sure, without a sheet on him.

 

"Are you going to get to work after this?" Shiro asks, his easy-going mood back on.

 

"Probably," Keith says. He rubs at his mouth, realizing he hasn't brushed his teeth yet while Shiro looks like he's ready to get out and going if he only had another outfit. _But_ , Keith considers eyeing at Shiro again, _those wouldn't be bad either. That could be his club attire. Lots of people would swoon over him_.

 

Shiro keeps silent for a while, and Keith can feels his eyes on himself. It makes him uncomfortable, but he doesn't want to say it out loud or it would be another painful point he'd have to address.

 

"I know my mind poking didn't end well, but you won't mind if I still poke yours?" his voice asks behind Keith.

 

Keith turns in his chair and looks at Shiro suspiciously. The man acts so innocent, but Keith doesn't like the sly spark he sometimes sees on his face. "What do you mean? Too much poking can be similar to lobotomy, you know."

 

"I'll be gentle," Shiro says, the horrible line making Keith's shoulders tense. Then he laughs softly. "I'd just like to ask few questions, I mean. I have to know everything about my savior, right?"

 

"I have always preferred the mysterious kind of saviors."

 

Shiro acts like he hasn't heard Keith. "To go back to my last question, how long have you done this?"

 

Keith gives him a glare, he can't remember how many of those he's send Shiro's way just today.

 

Shiro looks at him, saying, "Humor me a bit? I've read that shark book at least five times this morning?"

 

"There should be other books too," Keith points out. " _How to make nutritious food while in space",_ to be exact.

 

Shiro seems to give up, shrugging while still having a small, smile on his face and he sit down on the couch. He doesn't grab a book from the shelf, but starts inspecting his metallic arm, sliding his fingers across the surface. Keith looks away and thinks, _Good riddance._ He then glances at the clock -- they still have twenty minutes to spent. Keith has once spent more than half a day being silent even though he had company, so it doesn't bother him.

 

But he sneaks a peek at Shiro, seeing the man's face has turned into something like a cold statue, the corners of his lips down slightly and his eye-lids lowered like he is concentrating on the biggest mystery of the universe. Keith can feel his restlessness as he stares at the arm that is not his. And he realizes quickly that Shiro is far from a robot -- he's not a lifeless doll that chatters without a feeling and smiles in every situation. It's only a defense mechanism. When it's silent, Keith can only imagine what kind of storm is going on inside Shiro's head, only his own thoughts and non-existing memories to deal that he has to deal with. He is not being noisy about Keith's life, he's only trying to fill the blackness inside his head with words that he hears from Keith -- maybe he is not even really that interested, he just wants to have colors to paint some kind of picture on the blank board, even if the colors are not his own.

 

For the second time that day, Keith feels like an idiot. But now he also feels like an idiot that only thinks about himself and that's the worst kind of idiot.

 

He bites his lip while watching Shiro. "Uh," Keith starts, awkwardness sweeping around him, but at least Shiro is now looking at him instead of his prosthetic. "If you're that interested -- I've worked for Voltron for three years, been here almost those three years too."

 

"Oh," Shiro says. He clears his throat. "If you don't mind me asking more..." he pauses and when Keith gives him the barest nod, he continues, "Is this something you like doing? I'm not hundred percent sure of course, but I have feeling that whatever it was that I did for living, I loved it."

 

"You must have been a pilot," Keith says. "Your whole form screams that you're a pilot. Maybe an officer pilot even." As Shiro gives him a questioning look, Keith only shakes his head. "It's hard to explain, it's just this vibe that you have. I'm a pilot and naturally my co-workers are pilots too, so I know them pretty well. As for your question, I don't really care if this is something I like to do. I think I'm just lucky to be where I am and I should just be grateful of that, that's all."

 

He locks eyes with Shiro and he can't explain the feeling he gets from it. Like a rush of high, but at the same time it's grounding. "That's a really admirable way to look at your life," Shiro says.

 

"Thanks," is all Keith can answer, but the simple word doesn't give credit to the warmth Shiro's respect for him brings.

 

He glances at the clock and goes to sit down in front of his computer. "I don't have a spare chair, though."

 

"It's okay," Shiro shrugs. "I can stand fine."

 

Keith prays to the all gods he knows that his face isn't turning red when he says, "We can share."

 

He scoots on his right, his other ass-cheek hanging from the chair.

 

"I'm a bit bigger than you," Shiro points out and Keith knows Shiro is referring to his built, not his ass, but he still thinks about the possibility.

 

"You can't stand there the whole meeting. Like I said, it's a relaxed one. Lance is probably in his underwear."

 

Shiro looks unsure but then he's coming closer and pressed himself flush against Keith's side as he sits down on the chair. "It's actually more comfy than I thought," he says good-naturedly and Keith can only glance at him from the corner of his eye, feeling Shiro's voice too close to his ear.

 

"Good," he says simply.

 

They sit there side by side, and Keith manages to chit-chat with Shiro about trivial things like food for a good five minutes before the meeting starts.

 

The screen is filled with four different faces -- Lance's lips are curled upside in a curious manner, Pidge's light hair looks like the perfect example of a bed-hair, and only Hunk's another shoulder is visible.

 

"Hunk?" Pidge and Lance ask at the same time.

 

"Oh!" Hunk straightens his back and then he is looking at them with a nervous frown. "Sorry, guys. I needed to look at these calculations."

 

"Hunk," Pidge starts. "This is an intervention, we need to face Keith and his chabron together."

 

Keith stares at Pidge. "Chapron?" he snaps.

 

"Exactly," Lance nods. "I skipped my breakfast with Luxia for this."

 

Keith rolls his eyes at them, sending an annoyed look at Shiro. Shiro's face is impossibly close to his as he glances at Keith, a sympathetic smirk plastered on his face. Keith swallows heavily before looking back at the other paladins. Lance is frowning and Pidge is leaning her face against her hand.

 

"Are you guys okay there?" she asks.

 

"We're fine," he says, then glares at Hunk again. "Hunk, pay attention."

 

Hunk settles better on his seat and they hear a rustle that sounds like Hunk pushed his papers away. "I'm present, I'm present."

 

"Anyway, this is Shiro," Keith points at the man beside him.

 

"Nice to meet you," Shiro's form and tone seem much more relaxed than when he introduced himself to Allura.

 

"Is that a prosthetic?"

 

"Wow, Keith looks like a minion beside you. All that's missing is the yellow skin."

 

"Nice to meet you too."

 

Somehow Keith isn't surprised that only Hunk has the decency to greet Shiro.

 

"Yes, it is," Shiro answers to Pidge. Then he glances at Keith, frowning. "I do remember what minions are."

 

"Are you kidding me? You remember those, but you don't even know your full name?" Keith sighs. "What a mess."

 

"If that's the case, then I don't think the memory loss is based on neurological disorder," Lance cuts in. "Since your brain seems to reject any personal memories, it must be because of something traumatic has happened to you."

 

Keith has considered the same possibility. Even so, he doesn't like the direction this conversation is heading -- it might end up with Shiro clutching his head in pain again.

 

"Don't start to psychoanalyse him," he snaps.

 

"Don't you act like a momma bear, it's disgusting," Lance frowns at him.

 

Keith sees Pidge roll her eyes. Hunk on the other hand is looking at his papers again.

 

"Hunk! What's so important about those papers right now?" he growls.

 

Hunk sputters. "You know me! I want to make sure I didn't calculate anything wrong or forget something!"

 

"If you have agreed to participate in a meeting, you should concentrate on it."

 

"I thought this would be a relaxed chat," Shiro says sheepishly.

 

"It's suppose to be," Pidge mutters before her eyes are again guided to Shiro's prosthetic. "You don't remember what happened to your arm?"

 

Shiro shakes his head.

 

"What about that?" she points at the scar on Shiro's nose. Another shake of head from Shiro. "Mmm. Interesting. Can you use your arm normally? Does it hurt? Does it ever get tingly?"

 

Keith frowns at her questions, but then Shiro taps his knee. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it only startles Keith. Shiro sends him an apologetic smile before answering Pidge, "No, it doesn't hurt and it doesn't feel tingly. It only gets uncomfortable, when I'm lying down. Otherwise it works like a normal arm, except that it hums softly, like a small engine."

 

Pidge lets out a sound that resembles a squeal and makes an abstract movement with her hands, before clenching them into fists. Her eyes are glinting and her narrow shoulders are tense with excitement.

 

"Don't worry," Hunk says. "I get this reaction from her every time I show her the meter I built myself."

 

"You can't compare that to this!" she signs at Shiro's prosthetic. Hunk sighs a bit and Keith sees Shiro smile at him, his expression far for uncomfortable.

 

"You guys have any other way to bother him?" Keith asks in a dry tone.

 

"Are you eating properly?" Lance asks.

 

"I am, don't worry about me."

 

"Are those Keith's clothes?" Hunk asks. "Or were you an underwear model in that place, where ever it is that you came from?"

 

"Yes, they are my clothes," Keith answers and then snorts at the betrayed, embarrassed look that Shiro is giving him. "Stop acting like an insecure teen."

 

"He might be a teen," Lance chirps. "We don't actually know his age."

 

"What?" Keith says like Lance had just told him humans can breathe in space. "He, a teenager?" He gives Shiro's whole body a full checkout and shakes his head. "No."

 

Lance's eyes stare at him in a way that makes him feel like he just did something wrong, but he lets it be. "Anything else?"

 

"What's going to happen from now on?" Pidge asks.

 

"I'm not sure. We'll figure it out, when Coran arrives. According to Allura it might take few days."

 

She nods. "Sounds good. He can be your little helper till then."

 

"If you don't mind me asking," Shiro speaks out. "Can you tell me what kind of planets are you managing?"

 

"It's no problem," Lance says with a satisfied smirk, leaning back on his chair. "My planet is called Baku. I'm taking care of the merpeople that live in its waters. I also keep an eye on the water's salt levels since it has been pretty high for a while and it can be deadly for the mermaids, especially for the younger ones. We still don't know what causes it, must be some natural changes in the environment."

 

"And you are the pilot of Blue Lion?"

 

"That I am! Blue and I are bonded for life," Lance's eyes twinkle with fondness like always when he talks about his Lion. Keith doesn't know if he has the same look in his eyes, while talking about Red, but it's clear that Lance and his Lion's bond is one of the strongest. "She has some special skills, like breathing ice. It has become pretty handy in many situations."

 

"That's great," Shiro smiles, his voice soft and kind. "What about you guys?" he asks, turning his head to look at Pidge and Hunk on the upper corners of the computer screen.

 

"My planet-"

 

"Balmera is-"

 

Hunk and Pidge have a moment of silence, apparently staring at each other intently and then, like coming to a telepathic agreement, Pidge continues. "I haven't had a secular planet for a long time. At the moment I'm taking care of Olkarion, the Olkari nation is famous for their engineering skills. I'm helping them, as they liked to say "get a new, more worldly perspective in building technology. And my Lion is the Green one, by the way. She's great when you have to create a long distance connection. One time, I managed to create a signal that traveled many light-years ahead, just with her own technology."

 

"And Lion magic," Lance says.

 

"I wouldn't go calling it magic. We just don't know enough about the Lions yet."

 

Keith glances at Shiro and almost smiles at the enchanted way he is listening to the paladins.

 

"Your turn, Hunky."

 

"I take care of Balmera. The planet is an actual, living creature. Not in the sentimental way we would call Earth to be a living thing that we must protect and so on, Balmera is really alive. It can feel pain. You shoot its surface and it produces gigantic crystals that can be an energy source for space ships. But if you want to collect those crystals, you have to give away part of your own energy to the Balmera."

 

"Really?"

 

Hunk nods. "The Balmerans try their best and take good care of it, but the sun of the solar system that it's a part of, is coming to an end of its life span. The planet doesn't get enough sun anymore. The Balmerans are loyal people and they don't want to abandon their home so I'm looking after them in the meantime, but I can't stop the inevitable."

 

"It must be hard on you," Shiro says.

 

The comment makes Hunk startle, like Shiro had hit him in the soft spot that he has been trying to hide. He looks away, frowning. "It's nothing compared to the people that are losing their home."

 

"Fortunately they have you with them."

 

Hunk hums. "Like I said, I can't stop the inevitable. But I'm trying my best."

 

"Like we all are," Pidge says sincerely.

 

"I feel like I've pried enough," Shiro frowns and smiles at the same time, his shoulders tense. He looks a bit guilty.

 

"It's no problem," Keith answers. "You don't remember much about yourself, so there's nothing wrong to want to know all about everything else."

 

Shiro blinks and Keith sees him relax a little.

 

"Yeah, I didn't mind at all," Lance says.

 

Pidge nods. "It's actually pretty refreshing to have someone look at us like that, when we talk about our job. Usually people just scoff because they think it's... well, pointless."

 

"Yeah, I enjoy explaining stuff about my work," Hunk agrees.

 

Keith has seen Shiro's face break in many expressions, but now the look he has in his eyes is a mix of peace and joy in a soft, careful way -- a contrast to the blinding smile he has seen before. "Oh, thanks," he says softly.

 

"Anyway," Lance pauses, giving that same, strange look at Keith before continuing. "How is Keith as a room-mate?"

 

"He has spent one night in here," Keith deadpans. "We're not exactly room-mates."

 

He hopes the topic would get dropped after that, but there's no such hope.

 

"Wait, where does he sleep? I've visited your station and it's _tiny_. I can't say any of us is enjoying luxury, but your station looks like you're working in a cleaning company," Hunk says.

 

"Technically," Pidge raises up her finger. "We have been called that more than few times."

 

Hunk pays her no mind. "And I remember that you have only one bed."

 

"I also have a couch. I slept on it last night, if you must know," Keith mutters.

 

"Aren't you a gentleman," Pidge says while Lance is cackling on his seat.

 

"He is," Shiro says to Keith's horror. He even has the nerve to smirk at other paladins. "He rescued me and then he offers me his bed. I've only heard about men like that in fairytales."

 

"Keith, you little sweetheart," Pidge says with a smirk.

 

Keith's too busy to focus on keeping his face neutral to answer. He tries to mumble something at least, but it gets drowned in Hunk's voice. "When you combine his recklessness and the big heart under that scruffy shell, it's a plausible outcome."

 

"Like the Beast in B and B?" Pidges asks.

 

"B and B? I don't...?"

 

"Beauty and the Beast, Hunk. Why are you so slow today?"

 

"I'm sorry, I haven't had time to eat breakfast yet."

 

"I can see Keith being the Beast," Lance nods and Keith shudders when he starts to sing. " _Heee is not prince charmiiing..."_

 

"Oh god, shut up," Pidge groans, hitting her head against the table. "Last time you sang, I couldn't sleep for a week. I'm pretty sure you destroyed some parts of my brain lobes."

 

Lance stops soon enough, then he glances at Shiro, before asking with a serious voice, "Shiro, are you okay?"

 

Keith's attention is immediately shifted from the screen to the man beside him; Shiro looks pale and slumped on his side of the chair, and his eyes are moist like he's sick. Keith stands up without thinking, blocking the screen in front of Shiro, and presses his hands gently against Shiro's shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asks, trying to keep his voice calm.

 

Shiro's state doesn't look as bad as last time and he has enough strength to answer clearly, "Don't look so panicked. It's just my head again."

 

Keith can hear others ask if everything's alright. He quickly looks at their worried faces and says, "Quiet. Something like this happened before."

 

"Don't worry," Shiro says. "It was worse few seconds ago but now it's already just mild headache."

 

"Look at me," Keith's words sound almost like a command. Shiro blinks and few tears escape from his eyes, but he doesn't even seem to notice them. He does as Keith says and looks at him. "Good," Keith nods at him. "Do you feel anything else beside headache? Nausea? Is it hard to breathe?"

 

Shiro wraps his fingers around Keith's wrists, but he doesn't pull Keith's hands away from him -- the gesture is meant to be assuring. "Only headache. I'm better now, thank you."

 

Keith sighs as an answer. He feels a bit embarrassed, though he doesn't know why. He slowly slides his hands down Shiro's arms and when Shiro gives him a shy smile, thanking him again in a whisper, Keith finally moves away from him. He turns to others. Pidge is frowning and her mouth has a down-side turn and Lance is literally hanging on the edge of his seat, while Hunk is clutching some kind of book in his hands. Keith's eyes wander over each of them before he asks, "Hunk, what's that?"

 

Hunk closes his hanging mouth before answering, "It- it's a first aid book."

 

Keith hears Shiro chuckle beside him.

 

"It's okay now," Keith says to his colleague. "Take it easy."

 

Hunk warily lays the book down on his table.

 

"It could still be because of shock," Lance says softly and Keith shrugs since he isn't sure. "Keith, you said this happened before?"

 

"Yeah, he remembered something and then he got this awful headache. Though it was much worse," he says and then frowns at Shiro. "Do you remember anything now?"

 

"No. Nothing," Shiro answers, leaning back on the chair and then he sighs. He glances at Keith, still standing beside him. Shiro makes room for him on the seat, but Keith shakes his head firmly.

 

"You need some space," he clarifies, when Shiro gives him a confused look. "Actually, you should go rest. The meeting is over for you."

 

"I feel like this is discrimination towards people who have amnesia," Shiro mutters, but that's the only argument Keith gets before he is standing up, his form wobbly like an old man's. "I'm sorry about this, guys," he says to the other paladins.

 

It's quite comical how all of them start to wave their hands and apologize about their own behavior, even though no one did anything wrong. Keith says as much, "Stop it. It wasn't your fault," then to Shiro, "And you. Bed. Now."

 

He can hear Lance snort, but ignores it.

 

"It was nice to talking with you," Shiro smiles at the computer screen.

 

Pidge gives him a smile of her own. "It was. From now on, all our meetings should be like this."

 

"Except for the last part," Hunk adds.

 

"Take care of yourself," Lance says.

 

Shiro nods, and then retreats to the bedroom, running his hand through his messy hair as he goes.

 

"I think I should come and give him a check-up," Lance says when Shiro is gone.

 

"Coran is already taking care of that," Keith answers, but can't keep the concern out of his voice. "It might take few days. I'm kind of hoping that he doesn't remember anything before that."

 

Others nod in agreement. The meeting's nature changes after that. They don't talk about Shiro much anymore, but inform each other of their situation on their planets and in fifteen minutes Keith has closed his computer, he stands up and goes to check on Shiro.

 

The door to his bedroom is open and takes a look inside, where Shiro is laying on his bed. The vision is so unfamiliar that he almost moves his gaze elsewhere, but then Shiro's eyes meet his. He doesn't say anything, only sighs and gives Keith something that resembles a smile but is too hesitant to be it fully.

 

"How are you holding up?"

 

Shiro shrugs. "My ego is pretty busted and mood isn't much better. But physically? I'm alright."

 

Something in Shiro's voice makes Keith move closer, fully into the room until he is closer to the bed. He bents, and watches Shiro's face. "Do you want to... talk about it?" If he was in Shiro's situation, he wouldn't. But by now it's clear that Shiro isn't the same. He seems to like seeking for company and simple things make him chipper, but at times like this Keith doesn't know what to do.

 

Shiro hesitates before answering him. "There's nothing to talk about. The headache came out of nowhere, but I didn't remember anything. But... there was this strange feeling that bothered me a bit. Almost like sorrow, but I don't know what caused it. But it was so brief that it felt more like a shock that you get from burning your finger. To be honest, I might have just imagined it."

 

Keith sighs and can't keep the frustration out of his voice, "Look, I don't know anything about stuff like this. And I feel like these... reactions can get worse the more you remember and I'm not qualified to look after you while it happens."

 

"I'm sorry," Shiro says, looking at him with soft eyes. "I must be quite a bother."

 

"That's not what I meant," his mouth refuses to tell Shiro the truth, which is simply the fact that he's worried. "I'm just saying that I can't help you and that's the opposite of a good savior like you called me."

 

Shiro pulls his long legs close to his own body as he sits up on the bed. Keith stands up straight, looking down at him. "You're not responsible of me. You've already done enough. If I happen to remember something again, I'll deal with the consequences myself. You don't need to feel anxious about it."

 

"Fine," he huffs. He doesn't feel like the conversation ended on a satisfactory note but he decides to let it be. Coran will be here soon -- they only have to avoid touchy conversations topics till then. Even though Shiro's memories seem to pop up no matter what the topic is.

 

He's about to walk out of the room before he glances over his shoulder. "I gotta get to work now. I think you should rest more, but if you want to you can come with me. Maybe it could help you relax, to think about something else."

 

"To... to that planet?"

 

"Taujeer. Yeah."

 

Shiro nods at him, his eyes gaining back some of their brightness. "If it's no bother, I'd like to."

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Keith has a spare space-suit for Shiro. Its color is dark and it lacks the newest supplements that even best space-suits on Earth have, but it's at least three times more durable than an average suit.

 

"The design of this suit is pretty simple. Do you have any idea how to put it on?" Keith asks.

 

He watches as Shiro takes the suit in his hands and examines it carefully, feeling the material between his fingers. "I can try," he says after a moment.

 

"It hasn't been used for years so it needs some cleaning."

 

Keith takes the space suit with him to the shower room which is down the hall, a room much more spacious than his little bathroom. He finds the cleanser meant for space-suits, pours some of it in a rug and starts rubbing it across the solar shield. He hears Shiro arrive shortly.

 

"I can do that," Shiro says and tries to take the suit away from Keith's hands, but Keith pulls away from him.

 

"Let it be," he mutters, not even looking away from his work. He hears Shiro sigh, clearly over-dramatic about something so little, before he settles to look around. "You have such a small living space while the dressing rooms and this shower room are enormous. A whole crew could fit in here, but the apartment part is clearly meant for just one."

 

"Mm. This station wasn't meant for living at any point. It was always just a stand since Taujeer's air has been toxic even before it started collapsing on itself. The showers and locker rooms were always here for space-travelers, pilots and the crew to fresh up. The 'studio flat' was built for me after I got assigned for this mission."

 

"I'm going to shower here from now on. Your own bathroom is pretty cramped."

 

"It's enough for me."

 

After the solar shield is clean and Keith has shaken up the suit to get rid of the possible dust, he throws the suit at Shiro and feels a mix of satisfaction and disappointment when he, despite the surprise, catches it easily. "Let's suit up," Keith says.

 

They move to locker room, but only when Shiro takes off his shirt, Keith realizes he has two problems.

 

1\. He can't change in front of Shiro. He has to take his beanie off.

 

2\. He can't watch Shiro change in front of him either. Shiro's body is god-like with clothes on, Keith would probably die seeing him without them, even if it would be only for a second before he would change into the skin-tight body-suit.

 

Keith doesn't dare to say much, only walks past Shiro towards the long hall that leads to the apartment space and quickly mutters, "Wait for me here."

 

He doesn't hear Shiro saying anything, but Keith can only imagine that he's confused.

 

He shuts the bathroom door and sighs at the mere thought of changing in here, but he has to since the bathroom door is the only door with a lock. He groans at the narrow space but sighs when he takes off the beanie, finally able to move his ears freely.

 

He takes off his shirt and pants, and then pulls the under-suit up his body, the material hugging his skin tightly. The helmet is small enough without his beanie on, and he waits for two minutes before putting it on his head, moving his ears around like he was stretching his limbs; he scratches the fur lightly and sighs when he knows his time is up.

 

When all of his armor is on, he opens the bathroom door carefully, trying to not hit the suit against the door-frame. He walks through the long hall and sees Shiro, already in space-suit too, except for the helmet. Shiro stays silent when he sees Keith approaching. He must find Keith's actions strange, or he might just think Keith is shy about his body -- whatever his opinion is, he doesn't voice it and it's Keith who breaks the silence.

 

"Sorry, I have to check everything is in its place," he says and inspects the suit on Shiro. He only needs to fix few small things, like correct the position of the lamp near the helmet, and then he feels like they are ready. "Put your helmet on. We're going to get Red. Oh," he pauses then, and gives Shiro his equipment-bag. "Since it's going to be pretty poky in the cock-pit, could you hold that for me while I'm piloting?"

 

Shiro nods and then they make their way to Keith's Lion.

 

Keith receives a warm surge into his brain as a greeting when they see her. She opens her eyes, the yellow light of them like real cat's eyes shining in the dark. He doesn't have to bother to tell Red who is is going to accompany them today. He leads Shiro closer to the Lion before she lowers her body on the ground, lying down, and opens her mouth, the glowing stairs leading them inside her cockpit.

 

Shiro seems quiet when they walk inside, possibly in awe of the Lion. The lights turn on when they are in the cock-pit, the red glow illuminating the space.

 

"There's only one seat, so you have to hold on tight on the back rest," Keith tells him through the radio connection in their helmets. He sits down, the buttons awakening under his touch on the panel.

 

"How does this work exactly? I can't recognize the language," Shiro says, looking at the panel and screen in front of them, keeping his right hand on the seat.

 

"It's written in Altean. Allura's language, since her father created the lions. We did have some first base studies on Altean before piloting the Lions, but I can't really remember anything about it. The Lion hears my thoughts and understands me anyway."

 

"So it's telepathic?"

 

"I guess it is," Keith shrugs, then glances at Shiro. "Are you sure you want to come? This job is pretty boring."

 

"I want to," Shiro says immediately after the question has left Keith's mouth.

 

"Okay. Remember that Taujeer's full of acid so stay close to Red. I don't have to move far from her either, but I'm just saying this in case something was to happen -- keep close to Red."

 

Shiro nods and a pleasant thrum resonates inside Keith's chest.

 

He grasps Red's controllers. "Hold on tight."

 

He feels Shiro squeeze the back of his seat. He does his best to pilot them smoothly out of the station. He's a good pilot, but Red can be unpredictable, especially when she's trying to show off to strangers. As they fly off to space, he tries his best to keep her stable. He doesn't want to trigger Shiro's mind nor does he want puke all over the cockpit -- he can't know for sure how good Shiro's tolerance towards space ships is. Just because he _feels_ like a pilot it doesn't mean he is one. Luckily the way to Taujeer isn't long.

 

Red's landing on Taujeer is sleek. As her paws hit the unstable ground, the impact only slightly shakes the cockpit. Shiro's hand on Keith's seat is tight and Keith considers if he should have asked for Shiro to hold onto him instead.

 

"Are you ready?" he asks.

 

"Yeah," Shiro confirms and his expression looks normal inside his helmet. As they head for the exit, Keith notices the stable steps of his feet. Yep, definitely a pilot.

 

The air in Taujeer is hot and humid, Keith can always feel as much, even through his armor. He glances at Shiro in concern. Shiro raises his hand and put his thick, gloved thumb up for him and has even the nerve to grin. He's clearly excited. Another confirmation for the pilot-theory. This guy clearly loves space.

 

Keith tries to find a good spot near Red to take his usual sample. Usually he likes to wander a bit, but at the moment he feels uncertain about leaving Shiro behind. He sees steam coming out of the ground few metres ahead and takes out his thermometer. He has to measure the temperature once a week so he supposes he can do it now.

 

He turns to Shiro. " _Stay_ with Red."

 

Shiro shrugs in an exaggerated manner and Keith frowns at him. Shiro doesn't seem like he's about to go against Keith's word though, so Keith starts walking towards the steamy spot, glancing at Shiro behind his back.

 

He stops near the crack, careful with his feet, before activating the thermometer. He slowly puts the device in the middle of the steam. The heath that he feels through his gloves doesn't even make him anxious; he knows his suit can take it and so can the thermometer. The device is an Altean design, therefore the heat scale is different. Soon the meter shows him the numbers, 90, but it could mean anything in Fahrenheit scale.

 

Just when he is about to turn around, he feels the ground move under his feet. He glances down and barely has enough time to see the ground crumble before he loses his footing, falling down heavily. Panic rises inside of him and he crawls away from the spot -- he looks over his shoulder and sees acid melting the ground, acid that is too close to his feet.

 

"Fuck. Red!" he yells out loud even though he knows Red will come to him through a simple thought. He sees Shiro move, but the relieving vision of Red striding towards him is all he can focus on. In just few seconds his Lion is in front of him and opening her mouth. Keith grabs on the edge and holds tight as she pulls him to safety. Her mouth is still hanging open when she returns to Shiro. Keith's feet touch the ground and he tries to stop the shakiness that must be visible.

 

"Keith! Are you okay?" Shiro's voice is so frantic and loud in his ears that for a second Keith almost turns off the connection. He comes closer to Keith and touches his shoulder, but something makes Keith pull away from the hand. He hopes it's not the shock because he already feels vulnerable enough after Shiro seeing him scramble on the ground. "Keith?"

 

"I'm fine," he answers.

 

"You're not hurt?"

 

Keith has been in close shave-situations before and sometimes he thinks he's become numb to them, he _hopes_ he has. The worry in Shiro's voice and face makes him reconsider it though, somehow he hates that someone feels like that about him. It makes his mind plead like a child who is blaming an adult for arriving to fix the situation too late – the harm has already been done and he was alone when it happened, _what use does your care have anymore?_

 

Shiro doesn't have any reason to worry about him, nor the right. But Keith knows it's not the man's fault. None of this is.

 

"No, like I said, I'm fine. I got the measurement, now I have to take care of the sample."

 

As he waits for Shiro to answer, part of him waits and wishes for the wrong words, _are you sure you can do it, you should rest,_ so he can have an excuse to blow up. He has a bad temper at times and almost having his feet burned off is helping him very much with that. For over two years he has been alone and free to punch his fist through a glass and sleep without his beanie on if he wants to, and now he isn't – he has to be careful of what he says and if he can't handle himself or his emotions, he has to go and hide in his bathroom. The worst part of it all is that he finds himself _trying,_ trying to get along with Shiro, like it's something that matters while one of the multiple promises he has made to himself is that he can never have someone in his life who matters again.

 

Without even knowing it himself, everything that Shiro says seems to push Keith down and force him to look at the toxin that he has inside of him and make him question if he could have done something differently in his life.

 

If things were different, if he was normal...

 

Grey eyes look at him intently before he hears Shiro say, "Okay. You're the pilot here."

 

Keith's body feels heavy because of Shiro's words. They echo in his ears.

 

He hasn't been in control about anything important in his life, but he's in control now.

 

He's a pilot. He's alive.

 

Shiro doesn't doubt him.

 

"Shiro," he says, maybe intending to continue, but he can't. An urge to move and do something, is almost overwhelming. If he could silence his vehement mind, he might go fit the unknown need.

 

Shiro chuckles. "But I'm going to follow you from now on."

 

Automatically Keith is about to disagree, but a growl from Red, who is looming on his left side, forces him to shut his mouth. Only his ego is hurt -- he shouldn't let that affect his job and safety, or he might end up hurting something or _someone_. After some muttering, he hears his mouth form the word "Fine."

 

After that, they spend a quick half an hour on the planet. While Keith searches for a good spot and then takes the sample, Shiro keeps himself silent, but he's highly attentive on Keith's side.

 

When they are back inside the lion, Shiro only speaks then. "Has there ever been any colonization on the planet?"

 

"A few hundred years ago. They fled the planet when it started showing signs of melting and the acid covered the surface. They are... funny-looking creatures. Pidge has told me they look the same as some micro-animals. They have a long life-span so all the original inhabitants are still happily alive on another planet. I'm lucky that I can do this without any disturbances, unlike Hunk who has to stress about Balmerans all the time."

 

"He did looke pretty exhausted. You said you have been here for almost three years though? It must get lonely at times."

 

Keith only chooses to shrug and let Shiro imagine the rest. He feels those grey eyes on himself, then Shiro changes his position behind the chair, his hand sliding on the back of the seat. The sudden tentative touch on the shoulder startles Keith and he glances at Shiro quickly enough to see his human hand on his shoulder before it's pulling itself away.

 

"I'm sorry," Shiro says sincerely, but he doesn't look too apologetic nor too regretting of the gesture that was meant to be comforting.

 

Keith keeps looking at him for a moment before saying, "No problem."

 

_Do it again._

 

He shakes his head slightly and focuses on piloting.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

The hours pass slowly after that. Keith hopes Shiro isn't suffering too much for the lack of having anything to do beside read the books from Keith's shelf. Keith tries to entertain himself by playing few games on his computer, but the atmosphere is not the same when he's alone -- the constant presence in the same room is keeping him from being entirely relaxed. And Keith knows the reason behind it is not Shiro, but rather Keith himself.

 

His body is like a wire, because his mind likes to wander to _inconvenient_ things while Shiro is close. He can't keep his eyes on the computer screen though the sharp-shooting game would need all his attention at the moment. His gaze is pulled in by Shiro's concentrated face and the muscles of his arms. Fortunately, or unfortunately like his deceptive brain keeps saying, he has a blanket over his legs, unconsciously sparing some of Keith's heart from more frantic beating.

 

He's sure he shouldn't think about things like this. But his brain acts even more misleading and points out that Shiro is choosing to stay in the living room where Keith is, even though he could read in the bedroom. Shiro is staying in his company, probably for no particular reason, but for Keith it's a big deal. It causes a warm flutter inside his chest.

 

"What do you want for dinner?" he asks after few minutes.

 

Shiro doesn't raise his head from the book, but Keith sees him smile briefly. "Do we really have much of a choice?"

 

"We can choose between canned food, cereals, bread and fruits. I'd call that a win-win situation, given that some have to choose between garbage from streets or eating their fingernails."

 

"You're right," Shiro answers and closes the book. "Canned food it is then."

 

"Great."

 

They make some idle chat about the game Keith was playing as they sit by the table and eat. After that, Keith tells him that his time to visit the closest food place is in few days so they actually might have a possibility to have a proper feast when Coran arrives.

 

"Thank god. I was afraid your diet is always this horrible."

 

"I'd probably look much skinnier if that was the case," Keith answers. He is pretty lean but if there's something about his body that he is proud of, it's the modest but firm muscles his legs and arms have.

 

Shiro slurps some cold tuna into his mouth before looking away. Keith eyes at him intently as he mutters out an answer. "Yeah, you're probably right."

 

He frowns at Shiro's words, but leaves it at that. A silence falls between them, only the occasional, almost rhythmic sounds of forks and metal cans clashing together.

 

Only when they are done, Shiro starts talking again and this time his tone is careful. "Can I ask you why you keep that beanie on? I even saw you sleeping with it."

 

Keith tries to not still, not to give anything away, not to show any weakness. He agreed to not tell Shiro and he isn't one to go back on his word. "It's a long story."

 

"You wearing a beanie is a long story?"

 

"I-- My ears are... damaged." It stings how much the sentence makes sense to him. He almost mimicked his father's exact words that he once said to Keith, when Keith was only eight.

 

"Oh. Shit," Shiro looks like he doesn't know what to do with that information. "I'm sorry, Keith. You... you do seem to hear normally, am I right?"

 

"Yeah, um. It's not _that_ bad. They just look pretty weird. Probably disgusting too."

 

"Keith, that can't be true," Shiro turns his whole body towards Keith, the small couch doing a horrible job at keeping them apart from each other and Keith prays for it to become larger, so that Shiro's knee wouldn't be touching his thigh. "I can't speak for everyone, but I'm sure I wouldn't find _anything_ of yours disgusting. And if someone does, they have a problem, not you."

 

Keith wants to close his eyes at Shiro's voice, his words. He's painfully aware of Shiro's hand hovering above his arm, probably calculating if he should try to comfort Keith with a touch after the last time.

 

_Do it again._

 

Keith can't blame his instincts from his next move because the movement isn't quick and impulsive, but rather his hand, as it touches Shiro's own, is deliberate and slow. He doesn't think he has ever touched someone so gently as he does when his fingers grace Shiro's knuckles before wrapping them around the hand. It's Shiro's human hand and it feels incredibly warm. He knows he's most likely giving the gesture much more meaning than he is letting Shiro know -- the moment only lasts some seconds before Keith pulls his hand away. It could be just a handshake between friends.

 

"Thanks," Keith says softly and holds Shiro's gaze. Shiro doesn't look bothered, but if one could look shaky in a good way, that would describe his expression perfectly.

 

"Keith," Shiro's deep voice calls out his name, but then there's hesitation in his grey gaze and with that their eye connection is broken. Shiro grabs the empty cans from the table before standing up. "I'll put these away."

 

Keith watches him disappear in the kitchen. The disappointment he feels isn't mild and unrecognizable, but burning like an intense flame of tempting fire. For a moment he thought Shiro would move closer and, do what? Kiss him? Keith's desire for it is abrupt, but so powerful that it's playing with his judgement on Shiro's intentions. He doesn't know if he was seeing some kind of craving on Shiro's face or if it was only his own feelings reflecting back at him.

 

Rest of the day goes by mostly in silence. Shiro seems to be content in the calm, simple atmosphere and Keith feels awful when he even thinks about breaking it. Both of them spent their time in their own activities until the supposed night-time begins.

 

"I'm gonna turn in," Shiro informs him. He's finally stopped nagging about their sleeping arrangements, and he retires into the bedroom, satisfied, when Keith gives him a nod. "Good night," he says over his shoulder, then closes the door.

 

Keith considers this as the perfect opportunity to shower in peace, without fear of getting seen. Still, as he enters the shower room and sheds off his clothes, he keeps his pace quick and his movements are stiff, like a rookie would have in army.

 

When he comes back, beanie securely on his head, he checks up his mini-screen and frowns at the message from Lance,

 

_"Are you and Shiro up and being good? I should be in bed, but say hello to my old friend, insomnia."_

 

 _"He's asleep, but I'm up,"_ Keith types, then hits "send".

 

Lance's answer is quick, " _Great. Video chat with me, beast."_

 

Unfortunately for Keith, having a video-chat with Lance outside their usual meetings, in the middle of the night, is nothing out of ordinary. He humors Lance only because night-time makes him melancholic, and in his own opinion, too sympathetic. The truth is that if Keith would be drugged and the comfortable filter between his brain and mouth was removed, he could admit that sometimes he needs those chats too, even though he never speaks much during them.

 

But as Lance's face pops on the screen and Keith puts his headphone and mic set on, he finds himself anxious to say something, even share his problems, though he knows he would regret it soon after.

 

"How was the day in the field with your kouhai?" Lance asked, then immediately laughed at his own joke.

 

Keith hoped his expression was sour enough to shame the other paladin. "It was fine."

 

"Good. We wouldn't want him to burn himself. See, he's part of the very important experiment."

 

"Excuse me?" Keith says with a twitching eyebrow.

 

"The experiment called 'Keith has a sex drive'."

 

Out of reflex, Keith hushes him, then turns red when he realizes Shiro can't hear his colleague. Lance laughs and Keith's fingers squeeze the armrest. "What the hell are you talking about, you brain-dead little-"

 

"Stick and stones, Keith. Stick and stones. I understand you're embarrassed and that's why you're throwing them. But don't be. It's perfectly normal."

 

"I—"

 

"And don't lie to me," Lance points his long finger at Keith. "I'm not blind. Pidge and Hunk? They're full of pure nerd-blood so they wouldn't see the chemistry, I mean chemistry between humans, even if it bitch-slapped them in the face. But I saw you two during the meeting. I always knew lust at first sight was true and now I have a proof. When did it start though? Right when you brought him to your station? He's been there, what? Two days?"

 

"I..." Keith blinks and fights against the urge to cover his hot cheeks. His face feels like it's on fire. "I don't understand?"

 

"What did I just say? Don't lie to me!" Lance inches closer to his computer and Keith watches as he leans towards the screen. "If you keep denying it, you can't do anything about it."

 

"Do-do?" Keith can't help the stutter that his mouth produces. "Did you hit your head earlier today?"

 

Lance squints his eyes at him before his mouth opens in slight shock, which only alarms Keith even more. "Are you actually that stupid?" he pulls farther away from the screen and scratches the side of his forehead in a puzzled manner. "And Allura always says that you're smart."

 

"Shut up," Keith murmurs, glaring.

 

"Let me sort out few things. You _are_ attracted to Shiro, right?"

 

Keith's mouth opens itself, but he forces it to close, only to have it open itself again like he needs the words to come out.

 

_I am. I am, I am, I am. I've never felt like this before. What's happening? Why now? Why him? Why?_

 

Lance raises his hand and there's a small, surprisingly sincere smile on his lips. "I take it back, don't answer me. That," he gestures at Keith's face. "Tells me everything."

 

Keith swallows and absentmindedly wishes for the Parvus to crumble into space dust so he could be spared from more shame. If it is so obvious, what if Shiro has seen it too? What if Keith has made him uncomfortable without knowing? He's not used to being considerate of others, but just the thought of bothering Shiro makes him want to bang his head against the keyboard in front of him. "Fuck," he says simply.

 

"I know," Lance hums. "Now, another thing. You do know that Shiro is attracted to you too?"

 

Keith flinches at the sting on his tongue when his teeth accidentally bite it. "What?"

 

"...You don't," blue eyes widen at him for the second time that night. "Mullet-boy! Do you know what this is?" Lance takes a tiny crumble of grit from his table between his fingers, showing it to Keith.

 

"What—"

 

"It's your brain that floated all the way here and asked me for help because its owner is a failure!" He screams the last word into Keith's ears and Keith grimaces. "Have you _seen_ the way he looks at your pathetic ass?"

 

"Are- are you serious?" Keith asks softly. His heart is close to beating out of his chest and he feels strangely light-headed like Parvus actually has crumbled and he's falling into the space.

 

"I'm dead-serious," Lance nods. His eyes are twinkling like a pair excited child would have. "Now that that's done; has anything happened between you two?"

 

It takes a while for Keith to hear him and answer – the static inside his head is too loud. "Why do you want to know?"

 

"Have you considered that I want to help you?" When he's met with silence, he frowns. "Of course not. Still, I think this would be good for you. And for him. The things that guy must have experienced, even if he doesn't remember it. And okay, I confess, you two are kind of adorable. Do you know how hard it was not to laugh while watching you during the meeting? Why were you even using the same chair?"

 

"I didn't have another."

 

"Convenient. You didn't answer my original question. Has something happened between you? Besides the oh-so-subtle ogling."

 

Keith startles at the word 'ogling'. He hesitates, looks at Lance and finally answers him truthfully, "No. At least I don't think so."

 

"You don't think so?"

 

"I— No, the answer is no, okay?" he tries to keep his voice calm. "I wouldn't even know what that _something_ is!"

 

"Of course you would."

 

"No, you don't get it." He presses the mic between his fingers, focusing on the movement to control his sudden frustration and anger. "I don't know anything about things like this. I don't even know why this is happening. Do I look like someone who deals with feelings like this daily? If he- if Shiro knew what I am... It's stupid to even talk about this. You said it yourself, I'm a failure, why should I pretend and hope for something else?"

 

He's kind of proud of himself. He managed to keep his voice low, even though every instinct, every piece of him, is telling him to shut the computer and lock himself inside the bathroom, maybe punch another crack on the mirror.

 

"Keith, calm down and listen," he hears Lance say. Keith can't look at him anymore, so he keeps his gaze on the keyboard. "I didn't mean it like that. You've gotten this far, can you honestly call that an achievement of someone who's a failure? You fail only when you don't go for what you want when it's right in front of you."

 

Keith bites his lower lip at the rawness he can hear in his colleagues voice.

 

"I know you don't want to get yourself hurt. And yeah, it's risky. But it's not like you love him. This is your body and your mind saying to you that you need to let go and let someone make you feel good for once in your life. And even though you're an annoying douchebag, you do deserve that. Even though you're Galra," Lance pauses and Keith makes himself small on the chair. He feels pathetic beyond words, but his legs are too heavy to run away. "And honestly; if you show Shiro your ears and he remembers something, maybe it would be a good thing. It's obvious that he wants to know what happened to him, like we all do. Or he might not remember a thing. Either way, I don't think he would think differently of you, not too much at least. Since, because you're an idiot, you don't see how his eyes follow your every movement. And when you speak, everything about him is on high alert, like he's waiting for fireworks to go off or something. On top of that, he's a smart guy. And kind. Did you see how he talked to us?"

 

"I was there," Keith has enough energy to mutter.

 

"Apparently, that's not saying much," Lance grumbles. "My point is that, even if he remembered something, remembered who Galra are, there's probably only 10% chance that he rejects you because of that."

 

"There's still that 10%."

 

"Keith. I didn't take you as someone who clings on numbers."

 

Finally, Keith finds enough courage to face Lance again. Keith takes in his firm, serious expression and swallows slowly.

 

Then Lance gives him a smile. "Besides, if you're too unsure to show him your ears, there are things you can do with that beanie on."

 

Keith blinks, processes the meaning behind Lance's words, before snorting. "You're disgusting."

 

"Of course I am. I'm talking with you, aren't I?"

 

For a second Lance looks nervous, like he's afraid he has said something wrong again, but when Keith smiles at him, he visibly relaxes. Sometimes Keith can't stand him, but he would hate if Lance walked on eggshells with him.

 

"Uh, did you have something you wanted to talk about? Otherwise, I'm calling this off and going to sleep?"

 

"Cold, mullet-scrub. Cold," Lance shakes his head at him, before leaning back on his chair, making the back-rest bend. "Not really. Same old. It's nice to have this new refreshing topic now."

 

"Alright, so I'm going to bed."

 

"Wait! Are you going to do something about this?"

 

Keith almost chuckles at Lance's glare. "I'll think about it," he says sincerely. "But thanks."

 

Lance makes a quick movement that almost makes him fall off his chair. He coughs loudly before saying, "Did you just thank me?"

 

"Goodnight," Keith tells him before he ends the call. He's not surprised to hear his mini-screen let out a message sound soon after.

 

He decides to check the message later. For now, his over-heated brain needs sleep.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Keith wakes up to the sound that's coming from his small kitchen. He blinks his eyes slowly, then jolts up, feeling the beanie on his head with his trembling fingers. He adjusts it a little and checks out the time from his mini-screen. He decides it's too early to be awake so he sighs and then pulls the blanket over his shoulders, before laying back down on the couch.

 

While he's lying, he reads Lance's message.

 

_Shiro has already turned some part of you into prince. It's scary._

 

"Oh, good morning," Keith hears Shiro's voice as he's typing an answer. He recoils when he sees Shiro in the skin-tight suit that he used with the space-suit yesterday. His hair looks moist, the front flock matted against his forehead. He must have taken a shower. "You want some cereal?"

 

"Sure," Keith says softly. He feels exposed, like it's him who is wearing a skin-tight clothing. He watches Shiro nod and disappear back into the kitchen. As he recalls Lance's words from last night, he licks his lips slowly and feels the heart-beat inside his ears, like a thrumming, heavy bass. Slowly, he stands up and follows Shiro's steps.

 

Shiro gives him a curious look when he seems Keith in the kitchen. "Oh? I thought you-"

 

"You changed clothes," Keith blurts out. He isn't sure if he was supposed to say it slowly, stretch the words, make his voice sound flirty.

 

"Ah, yeah," Shiro says as he sets a pair of cups on the counter.

 

The smallness of his kitchen has never felt more real than it does in that moment. Keith can smell the scent of shampoo in Shiro's head and he wants nothing more than run his fingers through that white lock of hair, then scratch his undercut. He wants to slide his burning hand under that tight fabric covering Shiro's arms and feel the muscles with his palm.

 

"Your clothes were getting sweaty and to be honest, I prefer this," Shiro continues, shaking Keith out of his thoughts.

 

He feels like the conversation with Lance last night has opened a dam and all of his feelings and _urges_ are flowing freely, and he's close to screaming for Shiro to notice them. He’s still a bit drowsy which isn’t helping him to keep a level head. "It looks good on you," he says.

 

Shiro pauses and when his eyes take a look at Keith, Keith stops breathing. He tries to keep the eye contact between them, but then he sees Shiro's eyes quickly move from his face to his collarbone, then lower, before looking away, and during this, Keith sees _something._

 

_Have you seen the way he looks at you?_

 

"Thanks," Shiro's answer is soft.

 

Keith takes a step closer to him, his eyes glued to his back. Shiro pours cereals into their cups and doesn't pay attention to Keith's moves, but Keith knows he can feel and hear him get closer. Soon his shoulder bumps into Shiro's and Shiro flinches like the touch is a surprise.

 

"Sorry," Keith can't help saying, but when he takes a glance at Shiro's face, he sees how red his cheeks are and his expression looks self-conscious. It stops Keith from pulling away and makes him only want to move closer. Shiro doesn't look repulsed, but shy; unsure. Keith's ears twitch beneath his beanie without him even fully realizing it -- he feels so hot and he's sure if he were to touch his ears now, they would be burning. He swallows quietly, before stretching his arm and pulling his own cup closer to him, his hip brushing Shiro's in the process. He can do this, he can do this. "Can you take the soy milk out of fridge?" he's surprised at hearing his own voice, like he's not feeling like himself in the situation they are in.

 

Shiro takes a deep breathe, then moves only slightly so he can reach out his arm and open the fridge. When he sets the milk on the counter, Keith moves and opens the cap of the carbon. The silence is heavy when he pours the milk into both cups, feeling Shiro's gaze on his hand the entire time. He doesn't think he can eat cereals normally ever again after this.

 

When he's finished and puts the milk back in front of Shiro, Shiro's hands grasp his before he can pull away. Keith stifles the gasp that's trying to escape his mouth and almost chokes on it, watching as the big hands on top of his slide against his skin so that his fingers are trapped inside Shiro's grasp. He raises his gaze and finds Shiro already looking at him.

 

He wants to ask what's happening. This isn't a situation he can analyze -- it's a situation that he knows he put himself into but now when it's happening he doesn't know if he should fight or flee. Shiro's eyes have gone dark and the thrill that Keith feels is close to fear, but it's the kind of fear that Keith has never experienced. It feels good. Just Shiro's gaze on him feels good, and he wants to feel so much more.

 

Shiro tightens his grip, making a warm cocoon for Keith's fingers. He lets out a noise that's close to a sigh, frustrated.

 

"Shiro?" Keith's voice is only a whisper now, but when it breaks the quiet atmosphere between them, it's sounds like a scream.

 

"I don't know if—" Shiro's husky voice answers him before he cuts himself off. He looks down at Keith's hand, and Keith can see him struggling with his words. "I might be lost with everything at the moment, but I'm not entirely wide-eyed."

 

"I never said you were," Keith answers immediately.

 

But Shiro continues like he hasn't heard Keith. "And I don't think this is very wise."

 

"What?"

 

Shiro lets go of Keith's hand and Keith almost allows it to drop on the table in defeat, but instead he pulls his whole body away and squeezes his hand into a fist. He sees a glimpse of Shiro's troubled expression and then he looks down, averting his eyes. He feels small and stupid, like an innocent and pathetic child again, for trusting Lance and more than that, for trusting himself.

 

"Keith, I'm sor-"

 

Only a shake of head from Keith is enough to stop Shiro from apologizing. Keith feels a strange, heavy pressure on his shoulders wearing him down, trying to push him face-down on the floor. He isn't sure if he's feeling what he's feeling because of the hope that had set fire into his chest, only to die out, or because of Shiro himself. Either way, Shiro's reaction to his advances hurts like a kick in the stomach. Once again, he finds himself feeling like a wrong piece that doesn't fit into anything even if it should.

 

Why has he been so nervous and careful all this time, he doesn't know anymore.

 

Slowly, feeling like he isn't controlling his body nor hand anymore, he grasps the fabric of the beanie, and pulls it off his head. He can feel how all the blood gathers itself into his brain and the only thing he can hear inside his ears is his heart-beat. He stands there in front of Shiro, forcing his ears to stay up high so they're clearly visible, and he doesn't even glance at the Shiro's reaction.

 

He can't. And it makes him feel so ashamed, because for a while he had been proud of himself for showing his ears to others and not caring. But he can't do that with Shiro. Shiro is different.

 

"You don't need to say you're sorry," he hears his own rough voice say. "You're right. It's not wise getting involved with someone like me. I should be the one saying I'm sorry."

 

Suddenly he sees Shiro's legs move from the corner of his eye — his body tenses and he takes a step back, fighting the powerful desire to wrap his arms around his chest, shield himself from Shiro's gaze.

 

"Keith," he hears Shiro's voice and it's a perfect example of a soothing tone. A tone his younger self would have loved to hear everyday, when he was scared and when people yelled at him, called him a mutant, a bastard child, or when he was on the streets, close to dying because of hunger and cold.

 

"Keith," Shiro says again, louder. There must be something alarming in Keith's expression because then he feels Shiro's hands on his shoulders, but the hold is not pressuring. Keith feels odd, somehow reassured through the layers of panic, almost like someone would be holding his hand from under the crack of door. "Keith, can you look at me for a second?"

 

Can he?

 

He doesn't think he can. He shakes his head.

 

"Keith. I'm alive because of you. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You can look at me," Shiro's voice whispers, Keith can feel his breath on his face.

 

His ears hurt for holding them up, keeping them tense under Shiro's gaze.

 

"Keith," Shiro says again, gentle and patient. And somehow, it makes Keith unclench his fist, his palms tender from sinking his nails into the flesh. Slowly, very slowly he can feel his ears relax, slumping against his hair. His eyes slide from the floor to Shiro's chest and then finally landing on his face. Keith sees him look at the top of his head for a second, and then those grey eyes are gazing back into his. There's no sign of repulsion or even shock on Shiro's face. "There you go," he says.

 

Keith doesn't think it can be real. He's sure he's just gone mad and he's hallucinating right now, while the real Shiro has fled the station, disgusted with him.

 

"You said your ears were damaged, but I have a wild guess that you were lying," Shiro smiles. Why is he smiling?

 

"I wasn't exactly lying," is the only thing Keith can say, while staring at the man.

 

"So, you can't hear well with them?"

 

"More than well."

 

A frown appears on Shiro's forehead. "So it's about the appereance."

 

"I'm half-Galra," Keith tells him. He knows he can't deter it anymore. "I guess you don't remember what Galra is?"

 

"I do," Shiro says, merely nodding his head.

 

Keith's whole body produces a shudder and in his shock he shrugs Shiro's hands off from his shoulders. Shiro pulls away from him, but only slightly, and sets his palm against the counter. "What? You- you do?"

 

"Is it actually easier to believe that I just don't remember than consider that I'm not small-minded and cruel?"

 

Shiro's firm words and his serious, intense gaze, make Keith pause. For the first time in his life he doesn't feel like the object of judgmental thinking, but the table has been turned before him. If he is always lumped together with other Galra, doesn't he always do that with humans too in his haste to protect his own skin?

 

"But... why wouldn't you be?" Keith asks and when he sees a flash of hurt on Shiro's face, he adds, "Even I can admit that I'm disgusting."

 

"I know what I said before, so forgive me for this, but..." as Shiro says those words he lifts his hands, carefully and watching Keith's expression incessantly, before his warm finger-tips stroke Keith's cheeks. The touch is feather-light and barely there, but it makes Keith shake even more than when Shiro was holding his hand. "Keith, I feel like I might have not been a very good guy before my memory loss, because believe me, I want to strangle everyone who has ever called you disgusting. You're beautiful. I thought so from the moment I first saw you and I still feel that way. I've never seen someone as breathtaking as you."

 

Keith can't help but scowl. He has to or he's sure he would do something horrible, like cry. "You must have. You just can't remember it," he mutters.

 

"I'm 100% sure."

 

"Bullshit," Keith insists, but the rest of his words get stuck inside his throat, when Shiro leans his face closer to his own, bumping their foreheads together. Keith has never been so close to another person and if he wouldn't feel like fainting from shock, he'd be fascinated with how many eye-lashes Shiro has.

 

"Shh," Shiro hushes him and Keith can almost feel that voice hit his own mouth. He wants to push himself closer, that final one inch, but he's lost all of his earlier confidence and his revelation has made him raw and cautious. Keith searches Shiro's gaze and when their eyes meet, he can't look away.

 

He would describe Shiro as the most comfortable and tempting black-hole. He feels defenseless, but it doesn't stop him from wanting, trying to get sucked in.

 

"Shiro—" he doesn't know what he's going to say, but the sudden sound of his mini-screen doesn't only interrupt him, but it also makes Shiro jump and then pull away, like he's coming back to his senses.

 

"Work?" he asks, rubbing his neck self-consciously.

 

"Probably," Keith answers absentmindedly. Shiro seems to be back to his placid self. Keith appreciates that side of him too — it is pretty cute — but when Shiro takes his cup of cereals and leaves the kitchen, Keith feels himself longing for that intense and intimate spark in Shiro's gaze.

 

Keith leaves his cup on the counter while he checks out the message. After he's read it, he sighs loudly and marches into the main room, where Shiro is sitting on the couch, eating.

 

"What's wrong?" he asks.

 

"It was from Allura. She says the wormhole jumps might take more than few days from Coran. He needs to stop by few planets to get more energy. Since Parvus is the farthest base from the main installation." Keith crosses his arms. "So. That's it. That needs to stop," he gestures at Shiro.

 

Shiro straightens up on the couch, abandoning his cereals for a moment. "I know I've been a bother-"

 

"No," Keith sniffs, waving his hand at Shiro's baffled face. "I meant your outfit and our situation about food. We're going to the nearest space mall today."

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Keith knows space malls resemble Earth's shopping centers. He obviously wasn't one of the kids who hung there all day, but he can recognize the similarities easily. The only difference can be found in the structure, but the purpose of it is the same. Space mall is full of different kind of clothing shops, restaurants and even free playrooms for kids.

 

Getting to the mall with Red's light-speed doesn't take more than ten minutes. Keith leaves her where all the other spaceships are parked, feeling a grumpy aura coming off of her, and he promises her that they will be gone for an hour at most.

 

Shiro is in awe as Keith leads him to the closest clothing store, turning his head around rapidly so he can see _everything._ He doesn't comment much on the clothes that Shiro chooses and tries on inside the changing room — he's mostly in his thoughts, reeling over their previous conversation. But when Shiro finally comes out of the room and tells Keith he's ready, Keith spares a quick glance on the clothes. Shiro chose simple pants, a vest and a tight long-sleeved shirt; all of them are dark-colored. Shiro notices him eyeing at the clothes as they wait in line and when they look at each other for the first time properly after breakfast, Keith gives him a small smile. When Shiro smiles too, Keith gets some of his courage back.

 

Next, it's time to buy food. It takes a while for Keith to convince Shiro about his good financial situation and he insists that Shiro should buy anything he wants. After a while, Shiro gives in and Keith notices that he seems to have a special interest for all kinds of fruits. He quickly fills a good part of their card with them. Keith on the other hand buys more canned food and few strange-colored steaks.

 

"I thought you said you have a proper diet?" Shiro points out, glancing meaningfully at the amount of canned food.

 

"I meant the heavy dose of vitamins that I take because of the lack of sun."

 

When they come out of the mall and walk to Red, they are such a comical sight with their fat shopping bags that they start laughing at each other, and keep chuckling all the way back to the station. Keith's cheeks hurt and his heart feels strangely full.

 

"You ate molded apples?" Shiro comments as Keith shares few of his most disgusting experiences with food, later when they're in the kitchen.

 

Keith shrugs, roasting the steaks. They're doing something that could be called as cooking if it wasn't so half-assed and easy, even though Keith has to give Shiro some credit about the fast and skillful way he's cutting the few vegetables they bought.

 

"There wasn't anything else," he says.

 

He glances at Shiro and the man is already looking at him. "I'm sorry," he says and he looks so concerned like Keith eating those apples only happened hours ago.

 

Keith can't answer him. The words won't come out.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

Even though Keith enjoys talking with Shiro, at some point the conversation topics change to a bit one-sided. Keith has experiences, even though he only shares the most normal ones with Shiro, he has memories — Shiro doesn't. But that doesn't seem to bother Shiro as much. He listens to Keith and his stories, until Keith's throat is dry from talking more than he probably ever has in his adult life.

 

They end up half-sitting, half-lying on the couch, their plates empty and a post-dinner drowsiness settling in slowly. Shiro seems exhausted, but the more Keith watches him, his warm-looking and relaxed body, the more awake he feels.

 

He looks at his beanie on the floor where he threw it when they came back. He didn't even spare a thought for it. He's never been like this with anyone. Shiro's laughter echoes in his ears, he sees how Shiro's chest rises and falls.

 

He has nothing to lose anymore.

 

With a swift, much graceful move than he anticipated, Keith moves closer to Shiro, then presses himself into the man's lap. With his knees pressed against Shiro's sides he has the perfect levarage to look at him in the eyes. Beautiful, grey eyes.

 

"What— Keith, what are you—" It's quite funny how Shiro can't get even one coherent sentence out of his mouth. Maybe it's actually better that way. Easier to kiss.

 

There's no hesitation. Keith knows what he wants and most importantly, what Shiro wants. So he bends down, only a little since Shiro's face is already so close, and kisses him slowly, carefully. Keith has never kissed anyone and maybe it should make him self-conscious, but when Shiro opens his mouth and sighs, everything seems to fall into its place. He feels like he can finally breathe freely.

 

"Dammit," Shiro whispers against Keith's mouth before pulling away few inches. "This is not— I don't know if we should be doing this."

 

"I don't think we should," Keith's voice is a curious mix of moan, sigh, whisper and chuckle. He feels giddy like both his body and mind have turned into a big hiccup, something he can't control. "We definitely shouldn't, but I don't care. I— I want you and I've never wanted anyone before. And you're right here. And I'm not hurting you, right? Your head is okay?"

Shiro nods.

 

"You feel good and I feel good. So I don't care," Keith sits fully on Shiro's lap and stares at the blush on Shiro's face with intense desire. His own face feels like it's burning up too, even his neck. He raises his hand and feels the side of it.

 

Suddenly, when he's not paying attention, Shiro lifts his hand and then his fingers are touching the tip of Keith's left ear. Keith jumps like in a horror movie and Shiro immediately pulls his hand away. "I'm sorry."

 

Keith swallows and then he's pressing Shiro's hand against his hair. "Go ahead if you want," he decides to say, since he isn't sure how he feels about someone, about Shiro, touching his ears. He has been convinced from the day he was born, that it was the last part of him that people would want to touch.

 

Shiro's fingers are incredibly gentle with him and when he keeps stroking the fur of Keith's ear, it changes from a caress to something more erotic. Keith keeps looking at Shiro's face for a while, and he's captivated with the way Shiro is staring at his ears. It doesn't take long for them to kiss again and then Shiro's hands are occupied with Keith's chest, arms and thighs. Keith presses himself as close to Shiro as he can, and then he pulls at Shiro's shirt so that he can slip his hand under it, feel the muscles of stomach.

 

As minutes pass, they're soon a tangled mess on the couch, Keith clumsily laying on top of Shiro's body. Shiro's vest is gone and Keith feels like his body is caught on fire as his shirt clings to his skin and he's a bit embarrassed about how much he actually is _sweating._

 

Shiro raises the hem of Keith's shirt and he doesn't have to ask the question, the look in his eyes is enough. Keith kisses him for a while before he lets Shiro pull the shirt off, and then they get rid off Shiro's own. Keith looks at the many scars on Shiro's chest and arms and then makes an invisible path from one scar to another with his lips. He's painfully aware how out of his debt he is but like always, he follows his instincts, so when he has an urge to bite Shiro's collarbone, he does. Shiro's moan is all the encouragement he needs to continue.

 

"Tell me what feels good," Keith whispers, his mouth moving against Shiro's nipple.

 

"That," Shiro sighs, his voice trembling. "You. You, you."

 

When Keith stops sucking the nub to let out a chuckle, he sees Shiro frown at him.

 

"Stop being so sexy."

 

" _Me?_ " Keith pulls away slightly to look at Shiro with an incredulous expression.

 

"Now you're just fishing for compliments," Shiro answers with a smirk on his lips. He pulls Keith's lips to his own, tilting his head and tasting every corner of Keith's mouth. Keith's knees tremble and the bottom of his stomach turns into jelly. He pants heavily into Shiro's mouth and wraps his arms around the powerful waist.

 

Shiro pulls away, leaving Keith gasping. He's pretty sure he could die for those kind of kisses.

 

"You need to tell me what feels good for you too," Shiro whispers and the gentle way he strokes the hair on Keith's forehead, makes Keith's heart pound even stronger.

 

He feels like he's at his limit already, but feeling far too good to care. Without answering Shiro with words, he takes his big hand and presses its palm against his still clothed cock. He tries to not let out too much noise when Shiro understands his meaning, how could he not, Keith is so hard _that it hurts._

 

"Keith," Shiro says with a broken voice. Then he sits up, taking Keith with him and they end up in the same position that they started with. The only exception is that now Keith has more space to actually wrap his legs around Shiro's hips. As Shiro opens his jeans and pulls out Keith's cock, Keith feels like he could melt into Shiro's arms and disappear into the body close to him completely. The angle is perfect for him to reach out his own shaking fingers and unzip Shiro's pants as well.

 

When their cocks slide against each other and filthy noises fill the room, Keith can't help but rock his hips in a broken rhythm. His only comfort is that Shiro isn't any better. He feels disoriented and perfect at the same time, and when the pleasure reaches its peak, his mind blanks out completely and for several seconds he forgets his own name.

 

The only thing he can focus on besides his orgasm, is Shiro's breath and lips against his hairline and the moment when Keith feels him come too.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

They spent the night in Keith's bed.

 

"Why did we even do it on the couch?" Keith murmurs into the darkness of the room.

 

He thought Shiro had already fallen asleep, but when he hears Keith's words he wraps his arm around Keith's waist and laughs softly. "It was the _heat of the moment_."

 

When he starts humming the song with that same name, Keith pulls the pillow over his head to shut his ears. Shiro allows this for a while, until he starts biting and licking Keith's neck which is probably already looking abused enough.

 

Keith falls asleep with Shiro's all four limbs wrapped around his body.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

It's a spontaneous whim when they decide to go walk around Parvus before Keith's work begins. Parvus is an extremely small moon, but Keith has always liked exploring its many craters. Allura told him that it was once much bigger, but it has shrunk as time has passed — as surely as Taujeer has started to destroy itself.

 

"Keith," he hears Shiro's voice through the radio. He moves his gaze from one of the craters and looks at him. Shiro is standing on his right and he points at the space looming over their heads. Keith moves his eyes at the direction he's pointing at and he lets out a small noise when he sees faint traces of white cosmic dust painted on the black sky. "Isn't it amazing?" Shiro asks. "Like someone had just sprinkled a little bit of sugar."

 

"Yeah."

 

 _You came from there_ , he thinks. Shiro came to him from that mysterious void, overruling darkness and sprinkles of white dust. Keith still hasn't told him that the signal his shuttle sent resembled the language of Galra. He knows he should. But he feels a need to leave it at the moment when Coran arrives.

 

They spend the next few minutes in silence, watching the cosmic dust stretch over them like a soft blanket, shutting them inside a bubble that Keith has the privilege to enjoy.

 

He knows that Coran is coming soon and when it happens, their bubble is going to burst for a reason or another.

 

But at least it's not today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_The Dark Corner of the Universe, Part One; End._

 

 

 


End file.
